A   SINGLE   DANCER,    SWAYING   LIKE   A    LILY." 

(Set  fa  ft  ga.) 


OMAR  THE   TENTMAKER 


Eomance  of  ©to  Persia 


BY 

NATHAN    HASKELL   DOLE 


EllustrateD  bg 
FRANK   T.    MERRILL 


BOSTON 
L.  C.  PAGE   AND   COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 
1899 


D3 
04 


Cofyrijfkt,  1898 
BY  L.  C.  I'AGE  AND  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 


Colonial  J3ro«: 

El«ctrotyp«d  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  Simonds  &  Co. 
Boston.  U  S.  A. 


TO 

Wjt  <&mar  Ittjasgam  (Elufe  of 

AND  TO  ALL  ADMIRERS  OF  THE   POET  -  ASTRONOMER 

THIS   STORY   IS   RESPECTFULLY 

DEDICATED   BY 

THE  AUTHOR 


CONTENTS. 


* AFTER  PAGE 

I.  SULEYMAN'S  MAGIC  CARPET      .        .        .      1 1 

II.  THE  MOUNTAIN-PASS  .        .        .        .        .15 

III.  THE  PARK  ON  THE  HILL   ....      25 

IV.  A  MEETING  OF  OLD  FRIENDS    .        .        .31 

V.  HASAN  BEN  SABAH'S  STORY      ...      39 

VI.  THE  VESTIBULE  OF  THE  ORIENT       :        .       52 

VII.  AN  AMBITIOUS  SCHEMER    ....       70 

VIII.  A  POET'S  EDUCATION          .        ,  -77 

IX.  A  DAY  IN  THE  BUSTAN      .         .         .         .86 

X.  THREE  FRIENDS  AT  PLAY  .         .        .        .       97 

XI.  THE  KEEN  EYE  AND  THE  HUNGRY  PURSE     108 

XII.  POET  AND  MAIDEN 120 

XIII.  AGAPE'S  STORY   .        .        ...        .     135 

XIV.  THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS        .  .      .        .        .     144 
XV.  A  PRESENTIMENT  OF  ILL   .      ,.        .        .158 

XVI.  HASAN  THE  TEMPTER         .      '  »        .        .     170 

XVII.  A  SKILFUL  SERVANT  .        .        .        .        .     185 

XVIII.  THE  SNARING  OF  A  PRETTY  BIRD    .        .     193 

XIX.  A  MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE      ....     204 

XX.  AN  EMBASSY  FROM  RUM     ....     210 

XXI.  THE  BIRD  is  NOT  EASILY  TAMED     .        .    219 

XXII.  HASAN'S  FLIGHT  228 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


XXIII.  PRINCE  AND  POET      .....  239 

XXIV.  THE  PASSING  OF  A  FLOWER      .        .        .  246 
XXV.  A  NEW  ERA        .        .        .        .        .        .261 

XXVI.  THE  MAKING  OF  A  PROPHET     .        .        .  273 

XXVII.  A  CLOUD  ON  THE  HORIZON       .        .        .  283 

XXVIII.    THE  ASSASSINS 295 

XXIX.  THE  SULTAN'S  PAVILION    ....  307 

XXX.  To  WHAT  LENGTHS  HATRED  WILL  CARRY  320 

XXXI.  LIFE  GOES  LIKE  THE  WIND       .        .        .  328 

XXXII.  IN  OLD  EMBERS  NEW  FLAMES          .        .  338 

XXXIII.  IKAM  is  GONE  WITH  ALL  His  ROSE         .  352 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

"A   SINGLE  DANCER,   SWAYING   LIKE   A   LILY"       Frontispiece 
"  THIS   SINGULAR  FIGURE  BLOCKED   THE   WAY  "    .  -34 

"HE   GATHERED   THE   GIRL   INTO   HIS   ARMS"  •      1 68 

"THE   STORY    OF    HER    SUFFERINGS   WAS    WRITTEN    ON 

HER   WAXEN   CHEEK  " 25° 


OMAR   THE   TENTMAKER. 


CHAPTER   I. 


The  Unchanging  East ! 

Those  who  look  at  the  constellations  say  that  the 
stars  are  always  the  same :  the  belt  of  mighty  Orion 
glitters  as  it  did  in  the  days  of  Pharaoh  ;  Cassiopaea 
still  sits  in  her  jewelled  chair.  Only  the  planets 
wander  in  their  fateful  and  fated  courses.  Yet 
astronomers  tell  us  that  even  the  fixed  stars  are 
wheeling  in  mazy  dances  and  are  altering  their  rela 
tive  positions  each  second  of  hurrying  time. 

So  with  the  unchanging  East.  We  may  not  detect 
any  variation  in  a  lifetime ;  a  century  may  bring 
about  no  marked  alteration  in  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  people,  but  to  the  eye  of  wisdom 
improvement  or  retrogression  is  visible  on  the 
mighty  chart  of  history.  What  mysteries  lurk 
under  those  heaps  of  ghastly  ruins  that  make  deso- 

ii 


12  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

late  the  lovely  valleys  of  Iran  ?  What  melancholy 
tales  are  whispered  by  the  rushes  that  nod  in  the 
soft  breeze  rippling  the  waters  of  her  crystal  rivers  ? 
These  ruins  are  the  hieroglyphics  of  a  civilization 
now  forgotten  ;  these  rushes  mourn  for  a  prosperity 
long  since  swallowed  up  in  the  black  gulf  of  an 
archy  ;  could  you  understand  their  tongue  you  might 
learn  of  terrible  tragedies  succeeding  happy  days  of 
comfort  and  refinement. 

The  great  Clock  of  the  Ages  had  scarcely  more 
than  marked  with  its  hour-hand  the  beginning  of  its 
second  revolution  since  the  birth  of  our  era.  In 
England,  Edward  the  Confessor  was  just  closing  his 
long  and  virtuous  reign,  and  William  the  Conqueror 
was  setting  sail  from  France  with  his  suite  of  Nor 
man  knights ;  Sancho  III.  was  king  in  Spain  ;  Henry 
IV.  was  king  in  Germany,  and  Philip  I.  in  France. 
The  mighty  impulse  that  led  to  the  Crusades,  and 
sent  millions  of  men  to  fight  and  die  in  the  ideal 
cause  of  freeing  the  holy  places  from  the  contami 
nating  control  of  the  Saracens,  was  already  beginning 
to  be  felt  throughout  Europe. 

The  sceptre  of  power  had  dropped  from  the  weak 
ened  hand  of  the  Arab  in  Syria  and  Irak.  The 
dynasty  of  Seljuk,  the  Turk,  was  established  in  Asia. 
Togrul  Beg  had  obliged  the  Khalif  of  Bagdad,  Al 
Katm-bi-amr  Allah,  to  grant  spiritual  confirmation  of 
his  wide  conquests,  to  acknowledge  him  as  Sultan  of 


SULEYMAN'S  MAGIC   CARPET.  13 

the  East,  and  to  give  him  his  daughter  in  marriage ; 
but  before  his  ambition  was  gratified  he  had  died,  in 
1063,  and  had  been  succeeded  by  his  nephew,  Alp 
Arslan,  son  of  Chakir  Beg.  Alp  Arslan,  with  his 
Amir  Atsiz,  had  still  further  spread  the  glory  of  the 
Seljuk  banner,  had  captured  Aleppo,  had  conquered 
Syria  and  Palestine,  and  in  battle  with  the  Greeks 
had  taken  prisoner  the  Emperor  Romanus  Diogenes. 
But  in  the  very  hour  of  triumph  he  had  been  killed 
by  a  captured  Turkoman  chief,  Jusuf  Barzami,  who 
had  concealed  a  dagger  in  his  greaves.  His  son, 
Mali'kshah,  after  a  brief  struggle  with  Alp  Arslan's 
brother,  Kawurd,  defeated  him  at  Kamadan,  and  put 
him  to  death  by  the  bow-string.  Then  he  took 
peaceful  possession  of  the  throne,  and,  aided  by  Alp 
Arson's  minister  Hasan,  known  as  Nizamu'1-Mulk, 
the  regulator  or  supporter  of  the  realm,  the  ablest 
and  most  liberal  Wazir  that  ever  held  up  the  arms 
of  an  Oriental  potentate,  brought  the  Sultanate  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  celebrity. 

As  it  often  happens  that,  while  a  large  part  of  a 
continent  is  covered  with  a  dense  pall  of  clouds, 
some  happy  valley  still  enjoys  unclouded  skies,  so  it 
happened  that  in  this  eleventh  century,  while  Europe 
was  intellectually  half  barbarous,  while  learning  was 
practically  confined  to  the  scattered  monasteries, 
while  no  great  poet  was  writing  immortal  verse,  no 
great  artist  was  handing  down  the  lighted  torch  of 


14  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

genius,  the  distant  province  of  Khurasin  in  Persia, 
though  it  was  tributary  to  a  ruler  of  another  and  alien 
race,  was  at  the  height  of  splendor  and  prosperity. 

The  Romancer  possesses  by  right  of  his  imagina 
tion  Suleyman's  famous  carpet.  He  may  invite  his 
reader  to  sit  upon  it  and  allow  himself  to  be  trans- 
"  ported  back  and  away  to  that  distant  province  of 
Khurasan,  to  that  long  past  epoch  in  the  history 
of  man. 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE    MOUNTAIN  -  PASS. 

IT  was  a  perfect  day  in  early  spring.  Not  a  cloud 
flecked  the  tender  blue  dome  of  the  sky.  The  sun, 
as  if  conscious  that  he  was  looking  down  on  his  own 
particular  land, J  where  not  so  many  generations 
before  the  fire  towers  had  blazed  in  his  honor, 
poured  down  the  fullest  benediction  of  his  radiance. 

An  imposing  caravan  came  laboriously  to  the 
crest  of  the  pass  that  conducted  the  road  from 
Marp  to  the  valley  of  Nishapur.  It  could  be  seen 
at  a  glance  that  it  was  no  trading  caravan.  The 
magnificence  of  the  horses,  of  the  purest  Arabian 
breed,  the  richness  of  the  trappings,  the  abundance 
of  farrash-hci  or  servants,  the  throng  of  evil-faced 
camels  loaded  with  the  appurtenances  of  a  multitudi 
nous  camp,  the  brilliantly  decorated  palankins,  called 
takht-i-ravan-ha,  slung  between  sturdy  and  well-con 
ditioned  mules,  proved  beyond  a  doubt  that  some 
princely  or  even  royal  party  was  making  its  way 
over  the  mountains. 

1  Khur-ass^n  —  the  land  of  the  sun. 
'5 


1 6  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

It  was  indeed  a  royal  party.  The  Seljuk  Sultan 
Malfkshah,  with  all  his  court,  was  bound  for  the  city 
of  Nishapur,  and  as  the  foremost  of  the  procession 
reached  the  edge  of  the  ridge,  the  view  of  the  happy 
valley  was  suddenly  unrolled  before  their  eyes,  as  if 
by  enchantment.  A  halt  was  ordered  so  that  all 
might  enjoy  the  spectacle.  To  right  and  left  rose 
noble  mountain  peaks  still  white  with  the  unmelted 
winter's-snow.  At  their  feet,  far  down  lay  the  plain, 
as  if  in  the  palm  of  the  hand,  —  scores  of  flourishing 
villages  embowered  in  groves  and  fruit  orchards  with 
the  gleam  of  azure  waters.  To  the  right  was  Nisha 
pur,  "  the  Vestibule  of  the  East,"  surrounded  with 
its  embattled  wall,  its  masajfd  or  mosques,  with  their 
bulbous-tiled  domes  shining  in  the  sun.  As  far  as 
the  eye  could  see  there  was  evidence  of  a  thrifty  pop 
ulation,  of  a  fertile  region  rejoicing  in  its  prosperity. 

Ibrahim  Niyal,  nephew  of  Malfkshah,  and  Gov 
ernor  of  Khurasan,  informed  of  the  Sultan's  pro 
jected  visit,  having  made  all  provision  for  the 
reception  of  his  uncle  and  all  the  retinue,  had  set 
forth  from  Nishapur  the  day  before,  and  had  so 
timed  his  journey  that,  just  as  the  royal  party  halted, 
the  bravery  of  his  banners  and  regalia  gleamed  in 
the  morning  sun  as  he  came  riding  up  the  road 
from  the  valley.  He  had  come  to  perform  the 
ceremony  of  the  istikbal.  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  imposing  than  the  meeting  of  the  two  trains, 


THE   MOUNTAIN -PASS.  I/ 

on  the  little  plateau  of  observation.  Ibrahim  Niyil, 
attended  by  a  brilliant  cavalcade,  dressed  in  most 
picturesque  costumes,  came  riding  up,  mounted  on 
superb  steeds  the  very  names  of  which  attested 
the  purity  of  their  descent.  Ibrahim  Niyal,  dis 
mounting  from  his  horse,  which  he  left  with  a  zin- 
dar,  approached  the  Sultan,  and,  bending  low  before 
him,  kissed  the  ground  and  addressed  the  formal 
words  : 

"  Sal&m  haldi-kum  —  Peace  be  with  you." 
The  Sultan,  giving  the  return  salam,  raised  his 
nephew  to  his  feet  and  kissed  him.  They  then 
entered  into  an  animated  conversation  in  Turkish. 
It  was  evident  that  nothing  disturbed  the  cordiality 
between  the  two  august  relatives.  Mah'kshah's  brow 
was  serene  and  Ibrahim  Niyal's  face  beamed  with 
satisfaction.  The  Sultan  was  in  the  very  prime  of 
life.  Though  somewhat  stout,  he  was  well  por- 
portioned  and  alert  in  his  motions.  He  had  a  keen, 
black  eye,  and  long,  thin  mustachios ;  but  his  face 
was  neither  cruel  nor  sensual.  There  was  about  his 
whole  person  an  air  of  refinement  unusual  to  find  in 
an  Oriental  potentate  whose  hands  held  the  keen 
sword  of  unrestricted  power. 

The  nephew  bore  a  striking  resemblance  to  the 
Sultan,  but  had  a  less  intellectual  face ;  there  were 
harder  lines  about  the  mouth,  his  eyes  were  restless 
and  cruel.  His  look  was  haughty.  The  power  he 


1 8  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

had  to  wield  he  would  wield  with  greater  caprice  and 
harshness. 

"Nature  herself  seems  to  be  aware  of  your  illus 
trious  arrival,"  he  was  saying,  "  and  has  granted 
such  a  day  as  even  this  happy  valley,  famous  for 
perfect  days,  not  often  gives  us." 

The  Sultan  replied  in  appreciative  mood,  and  then 
Ibrahim  Niyal  explained  the  arrangements  that  had 
been  made  for  his  reception  and  entertainment  in 
the  city. 

Meantime,  at  a  little  distance  away,  a  more  signifi 
cant  meeting  had  occurred.  The  Sultan  was  accom 
panied  by  his  whole  court,  and  by  an  immense 
retinue  of  servants  of  every  kind.  The  officer  who 
had  charge  of  the  arrangements,  and  who  was  respon 
sible  for  everything  being  carried  out  with  perfect 
smoothness,  was  the  Wazir  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  who  by 
his  genius  for  system  and  his  skill  in  carrying  on  the 
complicated  affairs  of  State,  had  made  himself  indis 
pensable  to  the  former  Sultan,  Togrul  Beg,  but  even 
more  so  to  Mah'kshah,  who  had  come  so  unexpectedly 
to  the  throne.  Though  a  comparatively  young  man, 
he  was  capable  of  bearing  every  responsibility  that 
might  be  thrust  upon  him,  and  of  fulfilling  all  his 
duties  with  little  apparent  friction.  So  able  a  man 
arises  not  more  than  once  in  a  century.  His  ability 
was  evident  at  a  glance ;  by  the  keenness  of  his  calm 
and  brilliant  eye,  by  the  breadth  of  his  noble  brow, 


THE   MOUNTAIN- PASS.  1 9 

by  the  long  and  handsome  nose  with  sensitive  nos 
trils,  by  the  firm  and  beautiful  mouth  which  showed 
a  barrier  of  the  whitest  teeth  when  he  laughed,  as 
happened  not  infrequently,  since  being  a  Persian  of 
purest  blood,  he  was  fond  of  a  jest,  and  by  his  com 
manding  stature  and  admirably  proportioned  figure. 
His  complexion  was  dark,  but  his  features  all  told 
that  he  was  of  the  noble  Aryan  race. 

In  the  suite  of  Ibrahim  Niyal  came  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  men  of  Nishapur.  He  bore  an 
imposing  array  of  names  that  bespoke  the  excel 
lent  ancestry  which  he  might  have  boasted  of,  if 
he  had  ever  cared  to  boast.  He  was  known  as 
'Umar  al  Khayyami,  or  Omar  the  Tentmaker ;  but 
this  was  a  takhallus  or  poetic  name  which  he  had 
chosen  because  his  father  bore  the  name  before 
him,  not  because  he  himself,  or  his  father,  had  ever 
engaged  in  the  work  of  making  tents.  He  plays  on 
the  meaning  of  it  in  one  of  his  earliest  poems : 

Khayy&m  ky  khaymha  hykmdt  mi-duht : 

Khayyam,  who  at  the  Tents  of  Wisdom  was  sewing, 

Has  fallen  into  Adversity's  Furnace  glowing. 

The  "  Tents  of  Wisdom  "  represented  his  interests 
in  scientific  subjects  and  especially  in  astronomy. 
At  the  same  time  he  was  no  recluse  or  dry-as-dust 
scholar.  One  could  read  his  qualities  in  his  face. 
He  had  contemplative,  yet  laughing,  dark-brown  eyes  ; 


20  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKEK. 

a  smooth,  unruffled  brow ;  a  mouth  which  easily  curled 
with  scorn  and  yet  was  never  ill-tempered,  because  of 
his  naturally  genial  humor.  His  features  were  regu 
lar  and  refined  ;  he  was  tall  and  athletic,  yet  it  could 
be  seen  by  his  motions  that  he  was  not  averse  to  the 
comforts  of  indolence.  Above  all,  fanaticism  was 
absent  from  his  mental  or  moral  make-up.  He  had 
come  in  Ibrahim  Niyal's  suite  with  less  than  what 
would  have  been  his  ordinary  reluctance  to  put  him 
self  forward  in  any  way,  from  the  fact  that  a  special 
messenger  had  several  days  before  brought  him  from 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  notification  of  the  imperial  journey  and 
of  the  pleasure  that  the  Waztr  would  take  in  renewing 
acquaintance  with  his  old  schoolmate. 

The  two  were  now  just  meeting.  There  was  no 
condescension  on  the  part  of  the  powerful  minister ; 
there  was  no  subserviency  to  be  seen  in  manner  or 
words  of  the  modest  scholar.  They  had  been  friends 
years  before,  and  it  is  the  divine  nature  of  genuine 
friendship  to  keep  unimpaired  by  time  or  separation. 
They  drew  a  little  aside  from  the  rest,  and  by  a 
mutual  impulse,  sitting  on  a  great  block  of  reddish 
granite  which  stood  like  a  monument  dominating 
the  pass,  engaged  in  eager  talk. 

"  Indeed,  I  appreciate  your  courtesy,"  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  was  saying,  "in  leaving  your  studies  and  labori 
ously  climbing  to  this  height  to  answer  my  missive. 
I  had  expected  only  that  you  would  let  the  light  of 


THE  MOUNTAIN -PASS.  21 

your  face  shine  on  me  after  we  were  established  in 
the  palace ;  but  here  you  come  to  the  mountain-top 
to  greet  me." 

"Surely  the  kindness  of  your  letter  deserved  ten 
fold  more  pains  than  I  have  taken  to  give  you  my 
salam,"  replied  Omar.  "The  splendor  of  your  fame 
has  spread  over  the  whole  realm  ;  it  fills  our  valley 
even  as  the  golden  sunlight  fills  it  this  auspicious 
morning,  and  could  I  have  failed  to  wish  to  see  the 
Sun  which  spreads  abroad  such  a  beneficent  light  ? " 

The  Oriental  mind  is  prone  to  exaggeration,  and 
delights  in  far-fetched  fancies  and  hyperboles.  But 
at  this  period  there  was  much  greater  restraint  than 
would  be  found  even  a  hundred  years  later.  Omar's 
speech  was  more  flowery  than  was  his  wont,  and 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  listening  to  him,  and  with  his  keen 
insight  detecting  no  trace  of  hypocrisy,  yet  thought 
it  savored  a  little  of  sarcasm,  or  at  least  of  irony. 
But  he  remembered  Omar  of  old,  and  being  perfectly 
free  from  conceit  he  was  amused  rather  than  annoyed. 

But  Omar  went  on,  after  a  second's  pause : 

"  To  an  indolent  person  like  myself,  having  con 
quered  the  inertia  that  keeps  mortals  naturally  at 
the  bottom  of  the  valleys,  like  eels  at  the  bottom 
of  the  stream,  I  should  be  rewarded  if  by  nothing  else 
than  by  this  superb  view ;  but  to  have,  in  addition, 
the  sight  of  my  old  friend  whom  I  have  not  seen  for 
twenty  years  —  and  who  in  the  midst  of  all  his  cares 


22  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

and  responsibilities  has  not  forgotten  me  —  this  is 
indeed  an  honor  and  a  delight." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  heartiness  of  tone  in 
which  this  was  spoken  or  the  glow  of  pleasure  on 
Omar's  face. 

"Well,"  said  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  "we  shall  have  a 
thousand  interesting  things  to  talk  over,  a  thousand 
recollections  to  bring  to  life  again,  and  you  must  give 
me  all  the  time  you  can  spare.  I  wish  to  present  you 
to  his  Majesty,  but  while  he  is  engaged  in  talking 
with  Ibrahim  Niyal  we  may  at  least  make  a  begin 
ning.  You  have  kindly  told  me  that  you  know  some 
thing  of  my  course  in  life  ;  now  tell  me  of  yourself. 
Is  your  worthy  father,  whom  I  remember  so  well  — 
Ibrahim  Khayyam  —  is  he  still  in  the  land  of  the 
living?" 

"  Nay,"  replied  the  Imam  ;  "  he  died  five  years  ago, 
full  of  years  and  the  respect  of  his  friends.  He  bore 
the  burden  of  ninety  winters." 

"  May  Allah  show  him  mercy  and  bestow  on  him 
the  treasures  of  Paradise ! "  exclaimed  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk,  piously  ;  "  and  your  worthy  mother  ?  " 

"  My  mother  still  lives  and  is  in  possession  of  all 
her  faculties.  She  well  remembers  you  and  often 
speaks  of  you." 

"  And  you  ?  Are  you  contented  ?  Does  your 
ambition  never  prompt  you  to  seek  to  better 
yourself  ? " 


THE  MOUNTAIN- PASS.  2$ 

The  color  glowed  in  Omar's  cheek ;  a  fire  flashed 
for  a  moment  in  his  eye  ;  rising  to  his  feet  he  pointed 
down  to  the  city,  and  said : 

"  My  friend,  do  you  see  that  gleam  of  silver  that 
like  a  ribbon  ties  together  the  bouquets  of  foliage 
here  and  there  on  the  plain  behind  Nishapur  ?  That 
is  the  Seghawer  River,  —  a  stream  of  crystalline 
waters.  On  its  banks  I  love  to  sit  and  dream.  Is 
ambition  compatible  with  sitting  beside  a  crystalline 
stream  and  dreaming  away  a  summer's  day  ?  " 

"  Forgive  my  freedom,  friend  Omar  ;  but  have  you 
sufficient  of  this  world's  goods  to  enable  you  to  dream 
thus  at  ease?  For  without  means  bad  dreams  mingle 
with  summer  siestas  !  You  remember  our  compact 
of  long  ago,  when  we  sat  at  the  feet  of  the  Imam 
Muwaffak  ?  'Tis  yours  to  ask  ;  mine  to  grant." 

"  Let  us  not  talk  about  that  now.  Wait  until  you 
have  seen  my  needs,"  said  Omar,  with  a  winning 
smile. 

"  Nor  should  we  have  time  now,"  said  the  Wazir, 
"for  the  Sultan  looks  this  way.  I  wish  to  present 
you  to  him.  Let  us  go  !  " 

A  sultan's  look  is  a  command,  and  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk,  taking  Omar  with  him,  joined  Malikshah, 
who,  having  satisfied  himself  with  the  distant  view 
of  the  beautiful  valley,  and  the  great  city  that  he 
was  to  visit  for  the  first  time,  was  growing  impatient 
to  continue  on  his  way.  Nevertheless,  he  paused 


24  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

long  enough  graciously  to  receive  Omar  ibn  Ibrahim 
al-Khayyami,  whom  Nizamu'1-Mulk  now  introduced 
to  him  as  the  Imam  of  Khurasan,  the  light  of  sci 
ence,  the  worthy  successor  of  Abu  'Ali  Slna  (Avi- 
cenna),  not  only  a  great  mathematician,  but  also  a 
prince  of  poets. 

"  I  have  long  wished  to  know  you,"  remarked 
the  Sultan.  "Your  praises,  sung  by  this  truest  of 
friends,  have  been  sweet  in  my  ears,  and  one  of  the 
attractions  that  brought  me  to  Khurasan  was  the 
thought  that  I  should  see  you,  and,  perhaps,  win 
your  good-will." 

Such  flattering  recognition  from  a  sovereign's  lips 
was  like  honey,  but  Omar  was  not  a  man  to  let  his 
head  be  turned.  He  replied  with  wise  dignity,  and 
thus  confirmed  the  good  impression  that  his  appear 
ance  made.  From  that  moment  Malfkshah  was  his 
generous  patron  and  friend. 

The  signal  was  now  given  for  the  caravan  to  start 
on  its  downward  way. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    PARK    ON    THE    HILL. 

FIRST,  the  guards  armed  with  tall  decorated  lances 
rode  forward  on  noble  white  Arabian  steeds ;  then 
followed  the  musicians  whom  Ibrahim  Niyal  had 
brought  with  him,  and  they  discoursed  strains  which, 
if  not  harmonious,  were  at  least  inspiring  and  loud ; 
then  more  guards,  and  more,  in  military  order  and 
controlling  with  perfect  horsemanship  their  eager 
horses,  going  six  and  six,  matched  in  size  and  color, 
and  all  adorned  with  trappings  of  the  best  Bukhara 
work,  —  embroidered  cloths,  and  richest  of  leather. 
At  a  suitable  interval  Mah'kshah  and  his  now  en 
larged  suite  followed,  the  Sultan  riding  as  splendid 
a  charger  as  the  Orient  could  furnish ;  black  as  coal, 
glossy,  and  well  groomed,  his  trappings  glittering 
with  precious  stones,  but  worth  more  than  precious 
stones,  by  the  intelligent  keenness  of  his  liquid  eye, 
the  perfect  proportion  of  every  part,  the  high-bred 
elegance  of  his  slender  limbs,  and  the  sureness  of 
his  gait.  Well  might  Omar  and  others  who  believed 
in  transmigration  declare  that  the  soul  of  some  great 

25 


26  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

warrior  dwelt  for  an  incarnation  in  Sadet  Joghan ! 
No  wonder  the  Sultan  preferred  to  back  such  a  horse 
rather  than  be  carried  inglorious  in  a  palankin. 

Immediately  behind  him  and  his  suite,  separated 
only  by  another  relay  of  guards,  came  the  brightly 
painted  and  decorated  takht-i-Rawan-ha  of  the  ladies, 
who,  careless  of  showing  their  faces,  looked  eagerly, 
but  with  no  little  apprehension,  at  the  steep  path 
and  the  formidable  gulfs  yawning  below  them,  at  the 
splendid  plain,  and  the  noble  city  to  which  they  were 
going.  Behind  them  came  the  ungainly  red  camels, 
with  their  lurching  gait  never  improved  since  antedi 
luvian  days,  their  wicked  eyes  glaring  at  their  drivers, 
and  ready  for  any  chance  to  snap  and  scold.  These 
were  laden  with  all  imaginable  treasures,  —  rugs  and 
carpets,  provisions  and  luxuries,  whatever  might  be 
needed  for  hunting  or  camping,  for  rewarding  faith 
fulness  or  doing  justice.  Priests  and  all  the  min 
isters  of  the  service,  servants  of  every  sort  and 
camp-followers,  dressed  in  most  picturesque  garbs, 
brought  up  the  rear,  —  a  travelling  city  was  on 
its  way  down  the  mountain-side,  and,  as  it  was  a  visit 
of  pleasure,  there  was  nothing  visible  but  gaiety ; 
whatever  jealousies  were  felt  were  for  the  time  hid 
den  ;  no  possible  danger  of  attack  from  mountain 
tribes  threatened ;  the  sun  still  shone  with  unabated 
splendor,  and  the  farther  down  they  came,  the  more 
beautiful  became  the  rich  and  varied  vegetation. 


THE   PARK   ON   THE   HILL,  2 7 

By  pushing  forward  rapidly,  those  on  horseback 
might  have  reached  Nishapur  early  in  the  evening ; 
but  there  was  no  haste,  and  Ibrahim  Niyal  had 
arranged  that  the  caravan  should  encamp  in  a  park 
situated  on  one  of  the  lower  foothills,  and  offering 
ample  accommodations  for  the  whole  train,  while  his 
Majesty,  the  Kybla-y  Halam,  that  is  to  say,  the 
"  Centre  of  the  Universe,"  together  with  his  imme 
diate  followers,  would  be  entertained  in  a  hunting 
sarai  or  imperial-lodge  which  had  been  especially 
furnished  for  the  purpose. 

This  plan  was  agreeable  to  Mah'kshah,  and  shortly 
after  the  sun  stood  on  the  meridian  the  great  caravan 
was  entering  the  gates  of  the  park.  As  by  magic, 
camel' s-hair  tents  were  pitched  on  the  level  plateau, 
and  a  busy  camp  like  a  small  city,  with  all  its  indus 
tries,  was  created,  as  if  a  powerful  Jinni  had  created  it 
out  of  air  and  set  it  down  glowing  with  life.  The  sound 
of  hammers  on  anvils  was  heard,  for  horses  had  to  be 
shod;  armorers  were  soon  engaged  in  polishing  and 
sharpening  weapons,  for  it  was  known  that  on  the 
morrow  a  great  hunt  would  take  place.  It  was  no 
small  enterprise  to  feed  such  a  multitude,  and  the 
cook's  quarters  were  soon  sending  forth  appetizing 
odors.  Nothing  was  neglected  that  might  add  to  the 
comfort  of  any. 

The  sarai  itself  was  an  enormous  building,  but 
low ;  it  was  built  of  sun-dried  bricks  decorated  with 


28  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

brilliant  tiles.  A  large  front  room  or  hall,  resting 
on  carved  pillars,  received  the  whole  suite  of  the 
Sultan,  and  here  he  might  have  given  audience  to  a 
thousand.  Everything  was  so  well  managed  and 
anticipated  that  the  guests  were  shown  to  their 
apartments  by  dozens  of  noiseless  servants,  so  that 
there  was  no  confusion  or  delay.  Baths  were  pro 
vided  for  those  who  wished  to  perform  their  ablu 
tions,  and  wash  the  dust  of  travel  from  their  hands 
and  faces.  A  sumptuous  feast  was  provided.  The 
principal  dish  was  a  whole  mountain  sheep  stuffed 
with  pistachio  nuts  and  almonds,  and  served  with 
raisins,  apricots,  preserved  plums,  and  covered  with 
rice  mixed  with  pomegranate  seeds.  Fowls,  roasted 
on  live  embers  and  swimming  in  melted  butter,  fish 
from  the  mountain  torrent,  and  a  multitude  of  deli 
cious  fruits,  preserved  and  fresh,  added  zest  to  the 
meal.  The  visitors  were  surprised  that  such  variety 
and  so  well  cooked  dainties  could  have  been  served 
seemingly  at  a  moment's  notice,  so  far  away  from 
the  capital. 

The  Sultan  was  graciously  pleased  to  ask  Nizam- 
u'l-Mulk  to  join  him  and  his  nephew,  and  to  bring 
his  friend  Omar  with  him.  Such  condescension  was 
remarked  by  many,  and  the  rumor  of  it  soon  spread 
among  the  party  of  notables  from  Nishapur ;  some 
naturally  felt  envious  of  Omar's  good  fortune,  and 
ever  afterward  were  not  slow  to  make  capital  of  it 


THE  PARK  ON  THE  HILL.  29 

in  their  criticism  of  him.  Others  felt  proud  that  a 
son  of  Nishapur  should  be  so  distinguished. 

The  evening  was  given  up  to  talk  and  music. 
Under  the  light  of  flaming  torches  casting  a  ruddy 
glare,  and  weird  shadows  enhanced  by  the  firelight, 
for  the  night  air  was  still  cool,  girls,  that  had  come 
with  some  caravan  from  India,  danced  strange,  lan 
guorous,  voluptuous  dances.  When  these  were  dis 
missed  with  rewards,  the  Sultdn  had  his  story-teller 
summoned,  and  against  him  was  pitted  the  great 
nakkal  of  Nishapur  whom  Ibrahim  Niyal  had  brought 
with  him ;  for  in  those  days,  as  now,  the  Orientals  were 
excessively  fond  of  stories,  and,  like  children,  were 
content  to  hear  the  same  ones  told  and  retold  dozens 
of  times.  When  this  exciting  duel  of  improvisation 
was  over,  amid  the  applause  of  all,  the  Sultan,  sud 
denly  addressing  Omar,  who  had  sat  listening  with 
keen  enjoyment,  said  to  him  : 

"  Our  appetites  have  been  pleasantly  stayed ;  we 
have  feasted  our  eyes  with  graceful  forms  and 
motions ;  we  have  heard  with  our  ears  entertaining 
stories  ;  now  'tis  your  turn,  you  who  are  called  Malfk- 
al  Shohara —  Prince  of  Poets.  Repeat  for  us  one  of 
those  famous  quatrains,  the  fame  whereof  has  reached 
across  the  mountains,  even  to  Marv  —  it  is  your  turn, 
I  say,  to  add  cheer  to  the  evening  by  repeating  a 
quatrain  or  two  in  the  musical  Palahvf  that  I  love  so 
well." 


30  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Omar  Khayyam,  serene  in  his  simplicity  and  lack 
of  self-consciousness,  waited  not  to  be  urged.  Put 
ting  his  hand  to  his  breast  and  bowing  low,  he 
replied,  beginning  with  the  conventional  phrase : 

"  Tabdrdk  Alldh  I  hdzza  wa  jdll!  —  Praise  God  ! 
mighty  and  glorious  is  he!  Tis  indeed  an  auspi 
cious  day  that  has  brought  MaHkshah  in  safety  to 
our  beautiful  valley.  Would  that  his  unworthy  ser 
vant  had  the  fiery  tongue  to  sing  his  praise  aright. 
But  since  I  am  ordered  I  will  obey.  I  crave  indul 
gence  for  the  feebleness  of  this  hasty  impromptu." 

Then,  to  the  wonder  of  all,  he  repeated,  with  abso 
lute  dignity,  in  a  clear,  melodious  voice,  in  that 
Persian  tongue,  so  full  of  musical  inflections  and 
cadences,  a  quatrain  still  preserved  in  the  oldest 
of  all  known  manuscripts  : 

O  Shdh  !  Thy  stars  appointed  tkee  to  Sovereignty ', 
And  placed  thee  on  the  saddled  steed  ofEmpery; 
And  when  thy  charger,  golden-hoofed,  beneath  thee  moved, 
The  clay  whereon  he  set  his  foot  turned  gold  for  thee  ! 

It  was  so  charmingly  spoken,  composed  with  such 
elegance  and  propriety,  that  Nizamu'1-Mulk  was 
prouder  than  ever  of  his  friend's  well-remembered 
genius,  and  the  Sultan  begged  Omar  to  make  a  fair 
draught  of  the  ruba'i  and  present  it  to  him  as  a  re 
membrance  of  a  happy  evening.  He  then  gave  the 
signal  for  the  festivities  to  close,  and  retired  for 
the  night. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A    MEETING    OF    OLD    FRIENDS. 

THE  chase  has  ever  been  regarded  as  the  noblest 
sport  of  kings.  It  is  not  merely  the  instinct  of  de 
struction  that  animates  the  mind,  though  that  is  not 
absent,  implanted  by  nature  herself,  who  sets  the 
hawk  chasing  the  sparrow  which  in  turn  chases  the 
moth  —  an  almost  endless  chain  of  cruelty  and  ex 
termination  ;  but  there  are  also  the  loftier  elements 
of  adventure  and  danger ;  the  exhilaration  of  the  dash 
across  country  with  no  care  for  dykes  or  bounds ; 
the  chiming  music  of  the  hounds,  and  the  poetry  of 
the  swift  darting  falcons. 

The  province  of  Khurasan  was  at  this  time  so 
populous>  and  the  mountains  whereby  it  was  sur 
rounded  on  three  sides  were  cultivated  to  such  a 
- 

height,  that  game  was  not  easily  found  ;  only  by 
striking  off  beyond  the  great  Turquoise  mines,  far 
up  on  the  snow-clad  ranges  were  the  wild  sheep 
called  bakhta,  or  the  ibex  called  buz,  to  be  found  by 
the  ordinary  huntsman ;  but  many  specimens  were 
collected  in  Ibrahim  Niyal's  park,  and  the  Sultdn  was 

31 


32  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

promised  a  morning  of  exemplary  hunting  with  dogs 
and  hawks. 

A  perfectly  windless  night  was  followed  by  a 
morning  such  as  delights  the  huntsman's  heart. 
The  muazzln  from  the  top  of  a  tall  tower  of  observa 
tion  that  flanked  the  palace  suddenly  broke  out  with 
the  musical  call  to  morning  prayer  : 

"  La-ilAha  il-lal-l&hu  I  Mufiammdd-ur-rasul-ullAh  ! 
—  There  is  no  God  but  God  and  Muhammad  is  the 
apostle  of  God  !  " 

Then  the  sun  rose  from  behind  the  snow-topped 
mountains,  his  jolly  face  glowing  with  satisfaction 
at  seeing  such  a  beautiful  world.  Light  mists  hung 
in  graceful  lines  over  the  watercourses  in  the  valley, 
or  collected  here  and  there,  giving  the  eye  the 
illusion  of  large  ponds  ;  but  these  soon  dissipated 
and  rose  to  heaven  in  the  shape  of  swan-like  clouds 
that  slowly  sailed  away  and  vanished. 

Soon  all  was  astir  in  and  about  the  palace.  After 
a  light  breakfast,  the  hunting-train  was  collected,  and 
with  little  delay,  because  Nizamu'1-Mulk  disliked  any 
hitch  in  carrying  out  his  plans,  they  rode  down  the 
hillside  and  up  the  opposite  mountain.  Either  by 
carefully  prepared  accident  or  by  the  will  of  Heaven, 
the  mountain-goat  which  they  proposed  first  to  hunt 
was  soon  detected  trying  to  escape  up  the  steep  es 
carpment  of  the  cliff.  No  creature  is  swifter  ;  none 
surer-footed.  With  horses  alone  the  chase  is  impos- 


A    MEETING    OF  OLD  FRIENDS.  33 

sible ;  even  the  agile  greyhound  is  slow  compared  to 
this  wild  creature.  But  inventive  man  can  train  the 
jerfalcon  and  make  it  his  minister  to  hinder  the  flight 
of  the  goat. 

As  soon  as  Malikshah's  eye  caught  sight  of  the 
beautiful  horned  prey  bounding  along  with  untram 
melled  grace,  he  gave  the  signal  for  the  two  hawks 
to  be  unhooded.  Their  trainer,  the  Kushchi-bashi, 
smoothed  their  glossy  feathers,  spoke  a  few  encour 
aging  words  to  them,  then  let  them  loose.  They 
circled  up  into  the  air,  and,  as  if  by  some  reasoning- 
power  diviner  than  instinct,  the  twin  hawks  flew 
straight  for  their  quarry.  All  that  they  could  do  was 
to  harry  the  game,  to  flap  their  wings  in  its  eyes,  to 
delay  its  course ;  but  meantime  the  dogs,  sending 
forth  their  deep  bell-tones,  woke  the  echoes  from  the 
precipices  and  were  following  up  to  make  good  the 
work  of  the  hawks  ;  and  closely  at  their  heels  rode 
the  imperial  party,  full  of  exhilaration,  owing  to  the 
winy  clearness  and  coolness  of  the  mountain  air  and 
the  zest  of  the  sport. 

Nizcimu'1-Mulk,  of  course,  was  in  the  chosen  party, 
and  he  took  Omar  under  his  special  care.  Omar  was 
glad  to  go  because  he  liked  to  see  all  phases  of  life. 
But  a  singular  incident  kept  the  two  friends  from 
being  in  at  the  death.  Accompanied  only  by  one  or 
two  servants,  they  were  riding  side  by  side,  a  little  in 
the  rear  of  the  rest,  when,  as  if  suddenly  created  from 


34  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

the  very  air,  there  stood  before  them  a  man  with 
all  the  appearance  of  a  beggar,  though  dressed  in  the 
ihram  or  pilgrim-robe  that  consisted  —  if  anything 
so  filthy  and  tattered  could  be  said  to  consist  —  of 
two  cloths,  one  extending  from  the  shoulders  to  the 
waist,  the  other  from  the  loins  to  the  feet.  A  tall 
cap  of  lamb's  wool  was  thrust  carelessly  on  the  head  ; 
the  long  hair  was  matted,  and  he  wore  a  marvellous 
flowing  beard  dyed  yellow  with  henna  ;  fierce,  curling 
mustachios  crossed  a  face  cadaverous  in  its  thinness, 
and  strange  in  its  swarthy  hue,  while  a  pair  of  dark 
eyes  glowed  like  coals  of  fire  in  the  cavernous  depths 
of  their  sockets.  His  feet  were  shod  in  sandals,  but 
he  was  careful  to  show  the  instep  and  the  soil-stained 
heels.  He  was  evidently  tall,  but  his  stooping 
shoulders  gave  the  impression  of  age.  This  singular 
figure  blocked  the  way  of  the  two  huntsmen's  horses, 
and,  lifting  up  his  hands,  cried  in  a  voice  of  singular 
power  and  clearness  : 

"  Hdn  hAn  !  HodAya  !  GurysnAm  !  Kddrl  nan 
ba-nidn  bi-dilud  ! —  Listen!  Listen!  O  God,  I  am 
hungry  !  Give  me  a  piece  of  bread  !  " 

The  riders,  wondering  how  such  an  importunate 
beggar  had  managed  to  make  his  way  into  the 
guarded  park,  would  have  ridden  on,  paying  no 
attention  to  him,  but  a  keener  flash  came  into  the 
man's  eyes  when  he  saw  their  determination : 

"  La! natul-l-lAh  !  —  Be  accursed  of  God  !  "  he  hissed 


"THIS    SINGULAR    FIGURE   BLOCKED   THE    WAY. 


A    MEETING    OF  OLD   FRIENDS.  35 

between  his  clenched  teeth,  and  he  seized  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk's  horse  by  the  bridle. 

Here  the  keenness  of  the  Wazir's  intellect  shone 
forth: 

"  You  are  an  impostor,"  he  cried,  and  instinctively 
he  looked  around,  to  see  if  there  did  not  suddenly 
dash,  from  the  surrounding  underbrush,  a  body  of 
cut-throats,  who  would,  perhaps,  first  assassinate  the 
minister,  and  then  overpower  the  Sultan. 

The  apparent  beggar  then  drew  himself  up  to  his 
full  height.  "  Vd  vdild  !  Woe  is  me,  that  Hasan, 
the  great  Wazir,  the  famous  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  should 
call  his  servant  an  impostor.  Do  you  not  remember 
me  —  Hasan  ibn  Sabah  ?  For  it  is  I !  I,  who  after 
undergoing  a  thousand  perils,  and  escaping  a  thou 
sand  deaths,  have  at  last  come  to  remind  you  of  your 
forgotten  promise ! " 

It  was  then  manifest  that  the  beggar  was  not  what 
he  seemed.  He  was,  indeed,  a  pitiable  object ;  he  had 
evidently  been  through  strenuous  trials  ;  but  when  he 
stood  straight  he  was  no  longer  old,  but  a  man  in  the 
prime  of  life. 

Nizamu'1-Mulk  bade  his  body-servant  take  word  to 
Malikshah  that  he  was  called  back  to  the  sar^i,  but 
would  join  him  again  later. 

Another  servant  was  ordered  to  bring  a  led-horse 
as  speedily  as  possible.  When  it  was  brought, 
the  three  old  schoolmates,  now  so  extraordinarily 


36  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

reunited,  rode  slowly  back  to  the  palace  on  the 
hill. 

Hasan  ben  Sabah  had  always  been  of  a  selfish, 
moody,  and  taciturn  nature,  even  when,  as  lads,  the 
three  had  been  under  the  instruction  of  the  celebrated 
Imam  Mowaffak,  in  the  school  at  Nishapur.  He  had 
been  the  one  to  propose  forming  the  compact,  in 
accordance  with  which  the  one  that  first  arrived  at 
wealth  and  power  should  share  his  advantage  with 
the  others.  It  was  characteristic  of  him  to  assert 
his  claim  ;  but  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  not  forgotten  it, 
as  we  have  seen.  And  now,  as  Hasan  rode  between 
his  old  friends,  so  shabby  and  disreputable  in  garb 
compared  with  their  courtly  elegance,  though  in 
hunting  costume,  the  contrast  seemed  to  make 
deeper  the  scowl  on  his  brow  and  to  intensify  the 
fever  that  glowed  in  his  black  eyes.  Had  life  been 
going  hard  with  Hasan  ben  Sabah  ? 

That  was  what  both  Omar  and  the  Waztr  were 
asking  themselves,  and  what  with  instinctive  deli 
cacy  they  disliked  asking  him  outright.  So  they 
rode  not  only  slowly,  but  in  silence.  The  pilgrim 
garb  served  as  an  excuse  for  a  question  : 

"  Has  our  worthy  friend,  Hasan  ibn  'AH  ibn 
Sabah  er-Razi,  been  on  a  pilgrimage  ?  " 

Niz&mu'l-Mulk  repeated  his  whole  name  to  show 
how  well  his  memory  served  him,  and,  perhaps,  also 
to  flatter. 


A   MEETING   OF  OLD  FRIENDS.  37 

"  Life  is  a  pilgrimage  :  I  have  been  going  through 
life,"  replied  Hasan,  sententiously.  He  seemed  not 
inclined  to  speak,  and  they  got  nothing  further  from 
him  till  after  they  had  dismounted  at  the  entrance 
to  the  sarai.  Even  in  his  unkempt  and  wretchedly 
ragged  attire  Hasan  was  not  a  man  to  cause  ridi 
cule.  It  could  be  seen  that  he  was  no  ordinary 
mortal.  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  him  first  conducted  to 
the  kammdm,  where  he  was  given  a  bath.  Fresh 
clothes  were  furnished  him,  and  when  he  was 
suitably  clad  he  was  fed.  He  ate  like  a  starving 
man,  and  when  he  had  satisfied  his  hunger  he  was 
more  ready  to  talk. 

Nizamu'1-Mulk,  at  Omar's  suggestion,  decided  not 
to  rejoin  the  hunt :  a  messenger  was  despatched  to 
inform  Mah'kshah  that,  owing  to  the  presence  of  an 
honored  guest,  he  would  remain  at  the  sarai  until  the 
Sultan  returned.  It  was  a  mere  matter  of  form  ;  he 
knew  well  enough  that  Mah'kshah,  carried  away  by 
the  zeal  for  the  chase,  and  well  attended  as  he  was, 
would  not  notice  his  absence.  If  he  confessed  in 
wardly  to  a  sense  of  disappointment  at  missing  the 
boar  hunt  that  was  to  follow  that  of  the  wild  goats, 
he  did  not  show  it  in  his  face  or  manner.  Omar 
knew  nothing  of  that  proposed  delectation,  but  being 
a  studious  man,  fonder  of  mental  studies  and  specu 
lations,  of  quietude,  than  of  active  exercise,  he  was 
perfectly  satisfied  with  what  he  had  already  seen. 


38  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

The  picture  of  the  well-trained  and  beautiful  hawks 
flying  after  their  flying  quarry  remained  vividly  in 
his  mind,  and  he  saw  in  it  an  opportunity  for  an 
illustration  to  use  in  one  of  his  quatrains.  The 
musical  cadence  of  the  quintuple  rhyme  was  already 
beginning  to  dawn  in  his  mind. 

But  he  had  not  got  further  than  the  first  two  lines 
when  his  mind  was  wholly  concentrated  on  the  story 
that  Hasan  ibn  Sabah  was  beginning  to  relate.  Allah 
alone  knows  how  much  of  it  was  true ! 


CHAPTER  V. 

HASAN    BEN    SABAH's    STORY. 

"  WE  all  remember,"  said  Hasan  ben  Sabah,  "  the 
days  which  we  spent  at  the  feet  of  the  greatest  of 
the  Ulamah,  with  the  venerable  Imam  Muwaffak-ed- 
din.  Can  you  not  recall  his  weak  and  trembling  voice, 
when,  at  the  age  of  five  and  eighty,  he  still  poured 
forth  the  treasures  of  his  eloquence  and  expounded 
for  us  the  subtle  meanings  of  the  Law  ?  And  what 
dreams  of  ambition  did  we  not  cherish  !  For  we  well 
kndw  that  the  pupils  of  the  Imam  not  infrequently 
went  high  on  the  mountain-side  of  Fame.  You  re 
member  our  compact  '  One  of  us  three,  if  not  all 
of  us,  will  assuredly  attain  to  fortune.  Let  us  make 
a  compact,'  I  said,  'that  whatever  good  may  be 
granted  to  any  one  of  us  shall  be  equally  shared  by 
him  with  the  others,  and  the  possessor  of  the  good 
shall  give  himself  no  preference  ! '  " 

"  We  were  then  young  and  enthusiastic  boys," 
remarked  Nizamu'1-Mulk.  "We  were  not  wise. 
Rash  promises  made  in  childhood  may  not  hold 
in  maturer  years." 

He  said  this  with  a  view  to  test  the  patience  of  the 
39 


4O  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

claimant.  Omar,  to  whom  the  idea  of  reminding  the 
generous  Waztr  of  a  promise  made  so  long  ago  was 
repugnant,  looked  at  Hasan  and  wondered  how  he 
would  take  the  rebuff.  Hasan  said  naught.  There 
was  silence  again.  But  Nizamu'1-Mulk  was  not  going 
to  be  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  listening  to  Hasan's 
story. 

"Can  it  be,"  he  asked,  "can  it  be  that  a  man  of 
y  such  supereminent  talents  as  you  possess,  has  not 
profited  by  the  teachings  of  our  hal'ym  ?  We  pre 
dicted  that  you  would  go  far,  rise  high,  reach  fortune. 
Has  then  the  world  gone  wrong  with  you?  Have 
the  planets  poured  counteracting  influences  ?  Did 
not  Omar,  the  son  of  Ibrahfm,  read  in  the  stars  that 
you  were  born  under  happy  auspices  ?  Has  not  your 
dream  been  attained  ?  Tell  us  of  your  career  during 
all  these  years." 

"Verily  I  will,"  said  Hasan.  "After  I  had  for 
four  years  drunken  at  the  fountain  of  learning  that 
poured  forth  so  abundantly  from  the  Imam  Muwaf- 
fak's  lips,  I  returned  to  my  father's  home  at  Rey  in 
the  province  of  Irdk.  My  father  was  then  possessed 
of  abundant  means." 

Omar  recalled  that  Hasan's  father  'AH  bore  but 
a  doubtful  reputation  —  a  reputation  that  came  with 
poor  Hasan  even  from  the  distant  home  in  Irak. 

"  My  father  said  to  me,"  continued  Hasan,  "  'My 
son,  travel  gives  the  final  polish  to  the  mind.  I  am 


HASAN  BEN  SABAH'S  STORY.  4! 

satisfied  with  the  progress  that  you  have  made  in 
your  studies ;  you  are  fitted  for  the  career  of  a 
katib ;  you  might  teach  in  the  mosques  all  the 
beauties  of  the  Arabic  language  and  literature ; 
your  penmanship  is  perfect ;  you  are  a  skilled  ac 
countant  ;  you  might  take  your  place  as  the  right 
hand  to  the  governor  of  the  province  ;  you  are  equally 
well-fitted  to  be  mufti  or  even  wazir.  You  are  sure 
to  rise.  But  that  you  may  put  the  final  polish  on 
polish  already  so  eminent,  take  this  purse  of  gold  and 
see  the  world  for  yourself.'  I  was  nothing  loth.  I 
was  young  and  full  of  life.  I  engaged  a  servant,  and 
taking  my  father's  best  horse  I  set  forth.  Where 
should  I  go  first  ?  Irak,  of  all  the  provinces  of  Iran, 
is  most  extensive  and  most  fertile.  I  had  done 
better  to  make  myself  acquainted  with  its  possibili 
ties  ;  but  my  eyes  were  dazzled  by  the  fame  of  Bag 
dad  which  lies  in  another  Irak  —  Bagdad,  which  I 
had  heard  called  Daressalam,  the  House  of  Peace. 
But  why  should  I  tell  the  great  Nizamu'LMulk  of 
its  tiled  wall  of  fifteen  thousand  ells,  its  two  hundred 
towers  ?  He,  of  course,  has  seen  its  splendid  palace, 
the  Daresh  Shedshret,  the  House  of  the  Tree,  with 
its  pillars  of  gold  and  silver  ingeniously  contrived 
to  take  the  form  of  trees  loaded  with  jewelled  fruits, 
where  jewelled  birds  sing  songs  of  fantasy  under 
emerald  leaves,  guarded  by  effigies  of  knights  clad  in 
richest  robes  adorned  with  pearls  and  gems.  Had 


42  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

not  the  report  of  these  glories  reached  Isfahan  ? 
And  I  was  sent  by  my  father  to  see  the  world.  I 
travelled  to  Bagdad.  I  was  fortified  with  letters  and 
hoped  great  things  from  the  Kaliph.  I  was  kindly 
received  and  my  knowledge  of  the  law  and  of  polite 
Arabic  stood  me  in  good  stead.  But  my  success 
aroused  jealousies.  I  had  no  chance  to  show  proof 
of  my  abilities,  because  the  Kaliph's  ears  were  poi 
soned  against  me.  I  was  ever  modest,  and  I  had  no 
desire  to  contend  against  a  fate  that  I  saw  was  threat 
ening  me.  I  fled  from  the  city  not  poorer  —  for  I 
had  enjoyed  some  chances  —  and  precious  stones  are 
easily  stowed  away.  I  went  to  Egypt  and  there 
increased  my  knowledge  of  mysterious  doctrines. 
Egypt  still  retained  some  relics  of  the  wonderful 
teachings  that  made  our  prophet  Musa  preeminent. 
I  found  there  priests  that  were  adepts  in  the  mystic 
teachings.  I  saw  the  pyramids,  those  solemn  memo 
rials  of  a  forgotten  past.  I  was  taught  the  riddle  of 
the  Sphynx.  At  Cairo  I  was  admitted  into  the  grand 
lodge  of  a  secret  order.  I  absorbed  all  the  lore  to 
be  had  in  Egypt :  verily  I  believe  I  could  perform 
miracles ! " 

As  he  said  these  words,  the  fire  again  glowed  in 
his  cavernous  eyes.  Mayhap  it  was  the  fire  of 
insanity !  Or  was  it  genius  ?  At  any  rate  it  made 
his  hearers  uncomfortable.  Neither  of  them  felt  at 
ease  with  their  old  friend. 


HASAN  BEN  SABAH'S  STORY.  43 

He  went  on : 

"  I  heard  of  the  fame  of  the  caliphate  of  the 
Saracens  in  Spain,  and  I  resolved  to  risk  the  dan 
gers  of  a  voyage  thither.  I  followed  the  sun  through 
the  whole  length  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  What 
Muslim  ever  travelled  so  far?  Here  again,  I,  with 
my  wide  experiences,  was  on  the  way  to  high  prefer 
ment.  A  man  of  brilliant  understanding  was  needed. 
The  Christians  were  pressing  hard  on  the  Faithful. 
I  went  to  the  Kaliph  and  told  him  of  the  power  of 
the  African  Moors.  'We  are  all  of  one  faith,'  said 
I.  '  Behold  me  a  Persian  from  Rey  in  Irak,  I,  too, 
am  of  the  faith  of  Muhammad.'  The  Kaliph  liked 
my  advice,  but  again  jealousies  stood  in  my  way,  and 
I  was  charged  with  inordinate  ambition,  with  trying  to 
overthrow  the  Kaliph  —  I  who  was  as  innocent  of 
such  ambition  as  you,  Hasan  el  Tust,  are  innocent  of 
wishing  to  overthrow  your  master,  Mali'kshah !  But 
the  charge  brought  me  heavy  woes :  I  was  arrested, 
thrown  into  a  filthy  dungeon,  and  left  there  to  starve 
or  be  devoured  by  rats.  Fortunately  I  had  saved 
several  jewels.  By  means  of  one  I  bribed  the  jailer 
to  let  me  escape.  I  shook  off  the  dust  of  Spain  from 
my  sandals,  and  after  long  wanderings,  whereof  to 
tell  would  take  too  long,  I  once  more  reached  my 
father's  house.  He  was  dead,  but  his  brother, 
my  uncle,  who  had  come  into  possession  of  the 
house,  —  a  debt  he  said  had  given  him  the  right, 


44  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

—  had  kept  for  me  a  certain  part  of  my  inherit 
ance.  'Twas  a  small  share  ;  yet  my  father  had  been 
rich.  He  explained  that  losses  had  overtaken  him, 
and  that  after  he  had  helped  the  old  man  out  of  his 
difficulties  this  was  all  that  was  left.  .  .  .  But  we 
are  all  in  the  hands  of  Allah !  I  was  even  in  the 
midst  of  talking  over  affairs  with  my  uncle  when  all 
our  arrangements  were  rendered  at  once  nugatory ; 
my  uncle^nd  his  house,  which  had  been  my  father's, 
and  the  little  bag  of  gold  which  represented  all  my 
worldly  possessions,  were  transferred  into  hands 
accustomed  to  reap  where  others  had  sowed.  An 
incursion  of  Kurds  swept  through  Rey  like  a  moun 
tain  tornado.  The  bazar  was  pillaged  and  set  on 
fire ;  the  chief  men  and  their  families  were  seized 
and  bound.  The  children  were  dashed  against  the 
stones  and  their  blood  ran  through  the  streets. 
Resistance  was  in  vain ;  my  uncle  —  may  Allah 
cool  his  resting-place  —  was  compelled  to  show 
where  his  treasures  where  hidden.  He  at  first 
refused  to  speak  a  word,  but  when  they  threatened 
to  kill  him  on  the  spot,  he  fell  on  the  ground  and 
begged  for  his  life.  I  caught  one  glimpse  of  the 
costly  cups  and  jewels  that  I  recognized  as  having 
been  my  father's  pride  —  they  were  all  swept  into 
the  saddle-bags  of  the  barbarians,  and  my  bag  of  gold 
was  snatched  from  me.  My  uncle  and  I,  whom  he 
had  undoubtedly  robbed,  were  reduced  to  an  equality 


HASAN  BEN  SABAH'S  STORY.  45 

of  misery.  We  were  driven  on  foot  at  a  pace  that 
tested  even  my  endurance  and  soon  used  up  my 
uncle's  strength,  but  though  he  fell  more  than  once, 
he  was  given  no  respite  till  we  reached  our  first  halt. 
Here  sentinels  were  posted  and  a  division  of  the 
spoils  was  made.  The  miscreants  were  of  three  dif 
ferent  tribes.  I  never  saw  my  uncle  again  :  he  went 
by  lot  to  one  village,  I  to  another.  If  I  had  harbored 
any  resentment  against  the  poor  man,  I  felt  that  he 
was  now  punished.  I  could  even  pity  him,  torn  away 
from  his  family  whom  he  would  never  see  again,  and 
doomed  to  live  a  few  years  or  only  months,  doing  the 
degrading  work  of  a  slave  in  a  Kurdish  village. 

"  My  prospects  were  not  better,  but  I  was  young 
and  gifted  with  some  cunning ;  I  had  been  in  even 
worse  situations.  I  called  on  Allah  the  All-Merciful, 
and  faced  my  lot." 

"  But  how  did  you  escape  ?  "  asked  Nizamu'1-Mulk, 
who  had  followed  this  tale  with  keen  interest,  though 
his  skeptical  mind  was  ever  alert  to  detect  the 
improbabilities. 

"  'Tis  the  old  story :  by  woman  man  fell  and  by 
woman  man  is  sometimes  restored  to  liberty.  I  was 
taken  by  the  brother  of  the  sheikh  of  the  mountain 
village.  At  first  I  was  watched  very  closely ;  a  billet 
of  wood  was  fastened  to  my  leg ;  you  can  see  even 
now  the  scars  made  by  the  knots  !  " 

There  was  no  question  as  to  the  scares.    Hasan 


46  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

ben  Sabah  bared  his  ankles  and  displayed  the  marks 
made  by  cruel  thongs. 

"  But  I  made  no  complaint,  because  I  saw  it  was 
useless  to  complain.  I  knew  that  other  captives 
had  softened  the  frozen  soil  of  their  lot,  not  by 
the  continual  rain  of  their  tears,  but  by  their  zeal 
in  the  service  of  their  masters.  I  resolved  to  be 
cheerful  and  good-tempered,  I  who  am  naturally 
testy  and  gloomy  ;  I  smiled  at  their  blows  ;  I  learned 
that  one  can  wholly  control  one's  moods.  I  quickly 
mastered  their  language.  Allah  akbar !  God  is  great ! 
He  gives  his  servants  power  over  many  things.  The 
wife  of  the  sheikh  cast  a  favorable  eye  at  me.  I 
remembered  the  story  of  Yusuf,  and  Zuleikhi,  the 
Egyptian  Mace-bearer's  wife.  I  resolved  to  be  wiser 
than  even  the  great  Yusuf.  She  was  a  young  Cir 
cassian.  She  persuaded  the  sheikh  to  take  me  from 
his  brother.  The  Circassian  was  very  wise  in  her 
behavior ;  the  sheikh  never  suspected  her  motive. 
Nor  did  I,  by  a  sign  or  a  look,  betray  to  a  soul  that 
I  read  the  woman's  heart.  She  alone  knew,  and  we 
sometimes  had  a  moment's  speech.  When  it  was 
seen  that  I  was  apparently  contented,  and  made  no 
attempt  to  escape,  when  I  made  myself  useful  by 
reason  of  the  many  things  I  had  learned,  gradually 
the  bondage  was  made  lighter  for  me.  I  loved 
horses,  and  could  manage  them  ;  I  had  the  gift  of 
taming  even  the  most  unruly.  One  day  I  rode  with- 


HASAN  BEN  SABAH'S  STORY.  47 

out  a  saddle  a  stallion  that  my  master  had  captured 
from  some  Farsi  merchant.  He  was  young,  and  as 
yet  untrained  ;  fiery  and  full  of  the  spirit  of  Shaitan. 
I  offered  to  tame  him  and  make  a  useful  creature  of 
him.  I  was  given  the  chance.  I  taught  that  horse, 
which  I  named  Thawah,  to  be  as  obedient  as  a  ship 
to  its  helm.  But  me  he  looked  on  as  his  master.  By 
a  pressure  of  my  hand,  he  would  turn  to  right  or 
left,  or  stop  as  rigidly  as  if  carved  from  granite. 

"  By  radar  jan !  [Brother  of  my  soul !  ]  how  I  came  to 
love  that  horse  !  And  he  loved  me  no  less.  One 
day  when  the  sheikh  had  gone  on  some  expedition, 
to  plunder  some  caravan,  he  had  wanted  to  ride 
Thawah,  and  bade  me  saddle  him  ;  but  though  I 
knew  I  should  be  made  to  eat  many  sticks,  I  man 
aged  to  loose  him  and  let  him  go,  and  as  the  sheikh 
was  in  haste,  he  forgot  his  wrath  and  took  his  ordi 
nary  horse.  Then  I  knew  my  opportunity  was  come. 
I  could  speak  a  few  words  of  Cherkess,  and  I  bade 
Leila,  the  Circassian,  meet  me  with  a  supply  of  pro 
visions,  and  some  of  her  husband's  gems,  the  hid 
ing-place  of  which  she  knew.  Nor  was  she  loth  to 
do  my  bidding.  I  had  ever  a  masterful  way  with 
women  ;  they  seem  to  dread  my  eye,  and  yet  to 
follow  its  glance.  When  the  sheikh  and  most  of 
the  young  men  had  gone,  I  went  out  and  easily 
caught  Thawah.  A  Kurd,  who  was  especially  ap 
pointed  to  watch  me,  evidently  suspected  that  some- 


48  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

thing  was  wrong.  He  endeavored  to  stop  me.  I 
enticed  him  behind  a  knoll,  and  before  he  had  time 
to  give  an  alarm,  I  had  pierced  his  heart  with  a 
dagger  that  Leila  procured  for  me.  Then  I  laid 
him  down  as  if  he  were  asleep  in  the  sun,  and  no 
one  suspected. 

"  Leila  met  me  as  I  had  bade.  I  knew  there  was 
no  time  to  be  lost.  Swinging  her  on  the  saddle 
behind  me  I  whispered  into  Thawah's  ear,  and  we 
were  off.  Never  as  long  as  breath  sucks  through 
my  nostrils  shall  I  forget  that  wild  ride.  I  could 
only  judge  by  the  sun  whither  we  were  going !  We 
might  any  moment  stumble  on  the  sheikh  and  his 
men.  Then  what  a  fate  would  have  been  ours ! 
Death  by  torture  1  I  knew  that  Thawah  could 
bear  us  both  safely,  that  he  would  even  doubly 
loaded  outstrip  any  horse  that  my  master  possessed. 
But  by  a  miracle,  if  we  were  pursued  we  never  knew 
it  But  what  was  I  to  do  with  Leila  ?  She  had 
deserted  her  husband  to  follow  my  fortunes,  and 
where  was  I  to  find  my  fortune?  My  own  city 
was  sacked  and  destroyed;  my  home  and  all  its 
small  possessions  were  gone.  What  more  natural 
than  to  think  of  Nishapur,  the  gem  of  Khurasan  ? 
Nishapur  where  I  had  been  educated  ?  What  more 
natural  than  that  I  should  remember  our  school 
mate,  Omar  al  Khayyami,  who  might  tell  me  more 
than  what  I  was  already  beginning  to  hear  of  the 


HASAN  BEN  SABAH'S  STORY.  49 

fame  of  the  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  the  supporter  of  the 
Realm  ?  Accordingly,  a  day  or  two  ago  I  reached 
Nishapur,  but  alas,  in  what  wretched  poverty !  how 
unfit  to  be  seen  by  the  Eye  of  Science !  Neverthe 
less  I  went  boldly  to  his  residence,  which  I  found  by 
diligent  inquiry.  I  should  not  have  known  the  city ; 
it  has  trebled  in  population  since  our  day.  That 
gracious  lady,  the  mother  of  Omar,  remembered 
me,  though  her  eyes  were  not  so  keen  as  once  they 
were.  She  remembered  my  voice.  She  offered  me 
hospitality ;  her  son  she  said  had  gone  to  meet 
the  Wazir  to  the  Sultan  Mah'kshah,  and  would  not 
return  for  several  days.  I  left  Leila  there.  I 
came  as  I  was,  in  the  garb  of  a  pilgrim,  which 
I  had  assumed  to  disarm  suspicion.  I  resolved  to 
test  the  promise  of  the  Sultan's  minister.  Here 
I  am ! " 

There  could  be  no  doubt  the  man  had  been 
through  trials ;  his  story  of  captivity,  told  by  him 
with  animated  gesture  and  variety  of  intonation, 
was  dramatic  enough  ;  nevertheless  it  had  a  cer 
tain  suspicious  hollowness,  as  if  he  had  not  been 
through  the  experiences  himself. 

The  three  old  friends  had  found  it  pleasant  to  sit 
outside  of  the  sarai  in  the  sun,  and  sheltered  from 
the  fresh  wind  that  had  arisen.  The  farrash  had 
brought  them  rugs  and  cushions,  and  they  indulged 
in  that  pastime  dearest  to  the  Persian's  heart,  —  the 


5O  OAfAK    THE    TENTMAKER. 

hearing  and  telling  of  stories.  The  view  from  their 
resting-place  was  different  but  scarcely  less  superb 
than  that  which  they  had  enjoyed  on  the  plateau  of 
the  pass.  A  soft  haze,  violet  and  diaphanous,  hung 
over  the  valley,  lending  a  poetic  glamour  to  the  land 
scape  ;  the  distant  mountains  seemed  farther  away 
and  gentler  in  their  outlines ;  only  deeper  shadows 
marked  the  ravines  on  their  sides.  No  one  would 
have  imagined  that  only  a  few  leagues  to  the  south 
lay  the  great  salt  desert,  the  Daryal  Kabir.  A  few 
clouds  had  gathered  in  the  west,  and  promised  a 
royal  sunset. 

Omar's  quick  ear  heard  the  sound  of  a  silvery 
laugh  quickly  repressed.  He  looked  up  and  caught 
sight  of  an  exquisite  face,  a  pair  of  large  laughing 
eyes,  a  mouth  like  the  bow  of  Cupid,  and  —  was  he 
right  ?  —  the  dearest  little  mole  —  or  was  it  a  dimple  ? 
—  that  ever  inspired  a  Persian  poet  to  song!  All 
that  he  saw  in  an  instant's  glance.  Then  the  veil 
was  drawn,  and  the  three  friends  saw  hurrying  by 
two  ladies  of  the  anderun,  as  the  Persians  call  the 
women's  quarters.  They  were  attended  by  two 
stout  eunuchs  who  at  first  scowled  fiercely  at  the 
three  men,  but  when  they  recognized  Nizamu'1-Mulk 
they  bent  low  and  kissed  the  ground. 

A  single  arrow  from  the  eye  may  sometimes  by 
strange  chance  strike  to  the  heart.  Omar,  the  poet, 
could  not  forget  that  heavenly  glimpse.  He  forgot 


HASAN  BEN  SABAH'S  STORY.  5! 

that  the  eunuch  whom  Nizamu'1-Mulk  addressed  as 
Aga  Zalym  spoke  to  one  of  the  ladies  as  banu, 
princess.  He  forgot  to  look  at  the  sunset,  though 
even  now  the  clouds  were  beginning  to  grow  golden 
and  the  mountain-tops  turned  a  royal  purple. 

He  said  to  himself,  "Who  has  seen  once  may 
see  twice."  He  was  a  man  and  a  poet.  He  knew 
that  a  fair  one,  with  gazelle  eyes  and  a  "cypress 
form,"  had,  for  an  instant,  looked  at  him ;  the  elec 
tric  flash  was  all-revealing ;  hopes,  fears,  desires, 
joys,  that  he  never  suspected  lurked  in  the  depths  of 
his  soul,  were  disclosed  by  it.  The  place  waiting  for 
the  ideal  was  shown  to  be  as  empty  as  a  shrine  in  a 
temple  as  yet  undedicated  ;  here  was  the  ideal ! 

Love  opens  many  doors,  but  more  powerful  is 
money,  and  if  Omar  had  before  resolved  not  to 
accept,  much  more  to  ask,  any  of  the  Wazir,  his 
scruples  suddenly  vanished.  All  this  revolution  was 
worked  in  his  mind  and  heart  in  an  instant  of  time ; 
but  he  knew  the  absolute  necessity  of  caution. 
Just  then,  too,  broke  in  the  sound  of  the  kettle 
drums  announcing  the  return  of  the  hunt.  So  he, 
with  seeming  alacrity,  followed  Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  ^ 
Hasan,  as  they  went  to  meet  the  Sultan. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE    VESTIBULE   OF   THE   ORIENT. 

THE  next  day  the  Suit  An  went  down  to  Nishapur, 
though  he  would  have  gladly  lingered  in  that  para 
dise  of  hunting.  His  experiences  with  the  wild 
goats  and  with  the  gamy  boar  of  the  mountain 
had  but  kindled  his  desire;  but  his  nephew  told 
him  that  it  would  be  better  to  go  down  to  the 
city  and  afterward  return  if  it  still  pleased  him  to 
hunt. 

Malfkshah  had  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  his 
reception  in  his  Persian  capital.  It  seemed  as  if  all 
the  inhabitants  of  the  city  came  out  to  meet  him ;  the 
air  resounded  with  acclamations.  A  thousand  and 
one  mameluks  rode  out  in  advance,  and  when  they 
had  escorted  the  train  to  the  gate,  they  were  met 
by  thousands  of  maidens,  each  bearing  gifts  in  their 
hands,  and  as  they  walked  along  they  scattered  deli 
cious  perfumes,  the  'itr  of  roses,  musk  and  aloes, 
liquid  amber  and  camphor.  It  was  a  brilliant  scene, 
and  was  compared  to  the  meeting  of  the  elect  in 
paradise,  where  the  Rfzwan  of  the  Heavenly  Gardens 
shone  in  celestial  beauty.  The  Sultan,  on  his  part, 

5* 


THE    VESTIBULE   OF   THE   ORIENT.  53 

gave  such  abundance  of  alms  that  every  one  in 
Nishapur  received  a  gift,  and  it  is  said  that  that  year 
poverty  was  there  unknown. 

The  city  at  that  time  had  not  far  from  three  hun 
dred  thousand  inhabitants.  Never  since  its  founda 
tion  by  the  great  Peshadian  Tahmurath  had  it 
been  so  prosperous.  Alexander  the  Great  destroyed 
it,  and  it  had  risen  from  its  ruins,  only  to  be  de 
stroyed  again  and  again.  But  at  this  time  it  had 
been  enjoying  many  years  of  prosperity  ;  its  pow 
erful  wall,  flanked  by  massive  towers,  promised  per 
manence  of  defence.  No  town  in  all  Iran  had  a 
more  imposing  arg  or  citadel,  and  the  palace  where 
Mah'kshah  was  lodged  was  furnished  with  every  com 
fort  that  was  procurable  at  that  day.  The  principal 
bazar  or  market  exposed  for  sale  all  the  products  of 
the  East,  and  not  a  few  of  them  were  manufactured 
in  the  city  itself. 

On  one  side  was  the  quarter  of  the  potters  where 
Omar  especially  loved  to  linger  watching  the  men 
with  their  deft  hands  turn  on  the  revolving  wheel 
the  silent  forms  of  clay.  How  many  times  it 
occurred  to  him  that  the  wet  clay  thumped  by 
the  artisan  might  well  cry  out : 

"  '  Tis  thy  fathers  ashes  thou  torturest  thus  with 
thy  hands!" 

"  Many  are  the  excellent  men  whom  malicious 
heaven  has  turned  into  wine  cups  and  flagons" 


54  OMAR    THE    TEXTMAKER. 

Malicious  Heaven !  What  else  would  he  have 
done  with  his  own  clay  than  to  let  the  potters 
re-create  it  into  wine  jars  to  be  forever  filled  with 
the  rosy  perfumed  wine  ? 

To  him  the  jars  and  pots  were  all  alive,  some 
silent,  some  speaking,  but  all  full  of  memories  of 
the  happy  days  when  they,  too,  loved  and  were 
loved  in  turn.  The  handle  of  yonder  graceful  jar 
•was  the  arm  that  once  twined  around  the  maiden's 
slender  neck !  And  the  pottery  of  NishapQr  went 
to  all  parts  of  the  East.  The  pots  there  forever 
listened  to  the  porter's  "  shoulder-knot  a-creaking !  " 
—  eagerly  waited  for  the  long  journey  to  distant 
scenes. 

Here,  again,  the  coppersmiths  worked  at  their 
noisy  trade.  The  clang  of  hammers  rang  all  day, 
and  the  brass  and  copper  utensils,  that  shone  on  the 
walls  of  their  shops,  went  by  many  a  caravan  to  be 
distributed  in  the  marts  of  Asia  and  even  Europe: 
Here,  again,  steadfastly  labored  the  rug  weavers, 
patiently  working  out  their  exquisite  prayer  rugs  and 
carpets,  woven  of  silk  or  the  softest  wool,  in  the 
most  harmonious  colors  that  the  dyers  could  furnish 
them  withal.  Caravans  of  hundreds  of  camels  were 
coming  and  going,  bringing  in  the  silks  of  Gilan  or 
the  gold  and  silver  filigree  work  of  India,  Batavian 
sugar  and  spices  from  Ceylon.  The  great  bazar  and, 
indeed,  every  smaller  market  was  substantially  built, 


THE    VESTIBULE   OF  THE   ORIENT.  $$ 

with  arched  roofs ;  the  streets  were  paved  with 
marble  from  the  quarries  on  the  mountains,  and  the 
great  central  street  running  east  and  west  was  lined 
with  palaces  that  would  have  excited  admiration  in 
any  city. 

Nor  was  the  material  side  of  civilization  alone 
represented  ;  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  needs 
of  the  people  were  fully  provided  for.  There  were 
dozens  of  splendid  mosques,  with  lofty  minarets. 
The  domes  of  the  colleges  and  academies  also 
made  a  brave  showing  with  their  glittering  tiles. 
Here  far-famed  teachers  lavished  their  learning  in 
expounding  what  they  considered  the  weighty  mat 
ters  of  the  law,  indoctrinating  their  pupils  with 
orthodox  views  and  the  traditions  of  the  prophets, 
or  disputed  with  fiery  zeal  over  moot  points  of  the 
Quran  and  the  Surahs.  Ample  libraries  were  fur 
nished  with  manuscripts,  to  which  industrious  scribes 
were  constantly  adding.  Hundreds  of  students,  even 
from  distant  cities,  came  there  eagerly  trying  to 
squeeze  every  drop  of  wisdom  from  the  dry  books 
of  commentaries. 

Omar  himself  was  nominally  connected  with  a 
daru'l-funun  or  university,  but,  as  he  had  little 
patience  with  the  system  of  education  that  pre 
vailed,  and  as  he  was  out  of  sympathy  with  the  other 
professors  who  resented  his  criticisms,  he  did  not 
like  to  lecture  very  frequently ;  when  he  did  he  had 


$6  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

a  crowded  audience,  for  it  was  known  that  he  would 
say  many  droll  and  even  heretical  things. 

On  the  very  day  before  he  had  gone  to  meet  the 
Sultan,  he  had  stopped  at  an  old  academy  or  sem 
inary  called  madrasa,  which,  having  fallen  into  dis 
repair,  some  workmen  were  restoring  to  propriety. 
Omar  stood  for  some  time  watching  the  asses  that 
brought  the  bricks  for  its  restoration.  Several  stu 
dents  were  by  his  side.  One  of  the  asses  was  unable 
to  push  through  the  court,  but  stuck  in  the  entrance. 
Omar  went  up  to  the  donkey,  and  addressed  it  with 
an  impromptu  ruba'T : 

"  Thou  hast  gone  and  returned  like  a  child  in  the  game,  Ass  t 
Disappeared  among  names  is  thy  once  honored  name,  Ass  ! 
Thy  nails  grown  together  a  horned  hoof  became,  Ass ; 
Thy  beard  down  thy  back  is  a  tail  /     Who's  to  blame,  Assf" 

The  ass,  as  if  animated  and  encouraged  by  these 
dulcet  strains,  put  forth  a  final  effort,  and  made  his 
way  through  the  narrow  entrance  with  his  load.  The 
scholars  expressed  their  wonder  that  poetry  should 
have  so  powerful  an  effect  on  the  long-eared  animal. 
Omar,  with  that  sly  humor  characteristic  of  him, 
answered  their  queries,  saying : 

"The  soul  entangled  in  the  body  of  this  ass  was 
many  years  ago  in  the  body  of  one  of  the  teachers  in 
this  seminary ;  it  was,  therefore,  hard  for  him  to  go 
in  ;  the  humiliation  of  returning  in  a  humbler  form 
was  too  great  for  him  ;  but  when  once  he  knew  that 


THE    VESTIBULE    OF   THE    ORIENT.  57 

his  colleagues  recognized  him,  he  was  encouraged, 
and  made  grateful ;  so  he  put  forth  the  additional 
effort,  and  made  his  way  in." 

Some  of  the  students,  catching  the  humor,  repeated 
the  master's  innuendo,  applying  it  to  the  professors, 
and  it  was  rumored  that  Omar  had  called  them 
asses.  By  such  ways  men  win  unpopularity,  and 
Omar  was  regarded  as  a  freethinker,  and  even  sac 
rilegious.  But  little  recked  he  of  the  bad  reputation 
that  he  was  winning  for  himself. 

When  he  reached  his  modest  home  he  found  that 
it  was  true  that  Hasan  ben  Sabah  had  been  there  a 
few  days  before,  accompanied  by  a  veiled  woman, 
whom  he  had  desired  to  leave  with  Omar's  mother. 
He  was  properly  and  decently  dressed,  however,  and 
must  have  procured  his  pilgrim  garb  elsewhere,  and 
have  purposely  disguised  his  appearance  so  as  to  test 
and  prove  the  friendship  of  Nizamu'1-mulk.  But  the 
woman  had  not  stayed  long  with  Ziba-khanum  ;  she 
had  suddenly  disappeared,  and  the  poor  old  lady  was 
greatly  exercised  for  fear  some  harm  had  befallen 
her.  It  was  all  very  mysterious. 

Omar  had  invited  Hasan  to  make  his  house  his 
home  while  he  remained  in  Nishapur,  but  as  Ni- 
zamu'1-mulk  had  given  him  a  similar  invitation  to 
take  lodgings  at  the  palace  in  the  Arg,  he  had 
naturally  accepted  it,  with  the  wider  scope  for  his 
ambition  that  it  might  give  him. 


58  OMAR    THE   TENTMAKER. 

The  weather  which  had  been  so  beautiful  had 
changed.  A  storm  was  sweeping  down  from  the 
mountains,  and  the  heavy  rain  was  beginning  to 
pour  along  the  streets.  Omar  welcomed  it  with 
equanimity,  if  not  joy.  He  would  have  no  excuse 
for  going  out,  and  he  was  amusing  himself  with 
composing  a  treatise,  called  "Needs  of  Places," 
dealing  with  the  peculiarities  of  the  four  seasons, 
the  prevailing  climatic  conditions,  and  the  variations 
in  the  weather  in  different  countries  and  different 
parts  of  the  same  country.  His  keen  mind  saw  that 
storms  and  droughts  seemed  to  follow  the  lines  of 
natural  laws,  and  he  believed  that  by  a  system  of 
signals  one  might  foretell  the  approach  of  bad 
weather  or  the  end  of  rains. 

The  house  in  which  he  lived  with  his  aged  mother 
was  like  most  Persian  houses.  It  was  four  square, 
of  sun-dried  brick,  protected  from  the  storms  by 
blue  tiles  made  by  Selim  ibn  Ibrahim,  the  potter. 
The  centre  room  was  covered  with  a  dome ;  at  each 
corner  were  apartments.  From  the  outside  little 
could  be  judged  of  the  inhabitants ;  and  inside,  the 
furnishings  were  what  would  be  called  scanty  in  a 
modern  house.  But  in  spite  of  limited  means,  the 
rugs  or  carpets  of  Birjand  spread  on  the  floors  were 
of  beautiful  designs  and  harmonious  colors,  and  Omar 
had  not  haunted  the  coppersmiths'  quarter  in  vain. 
The  ceilings  were  painted  in  conventional  designs. 


THE    VESTIBULE    OF   THE    ORIENT.  59 

His  mother  prided  herself  on  her  housewifery,  and  if 
the  Sultan  himself  had  entered  at  any  moment,  he 
would  have  found  perfect  order,  and  simple  but  ele 
gant  fare. 

Back  of  the  house  was  a  garden  stocked  with 
fruits,  for  which  Khurasan  was  famous,  —  the  mango 
and  jujube,  the  pipal  and  apricot,  while  a  tall  date- 
palm  lifted  on  high  its  graceful  head,  bending  caress 
ingly  and,  as  it  were,  lovingly  over  the  house  that  it 
seemed  to  protect.  Red-legged  rooks  found  shelter 
there,  and  he  was  especially  fond  of  the  pigeon,  the 
wood-pigeon,  whose  pathetic  cry  forever  asking  the 
question,  "  Where  ?  Where  ?  —  Ku  ?  Ku  ?  " —  was 
a  reminder  that  Nishapur,  which  had  been  laid  in 
ruins  so  many  times,  might  again  become  as  desolate 
as  the  Takht-i-Jamshid,  those  imposing  relics  of  the 
departed  glory  of  the  ancient  kings  —  and  that  other 
races  of  pigeons  would  ask,  and  ask  in  vain,  "  Where, 
where  are  they  who  once  dwelt  happy  mid  all  the 
splendor  now  vanished  ?  " 

Nishapur  was  well  supplied  with  water.  Down 
from  the  mountain-sides  flowed  a  hundred  cooling 
streams  ;  and  across  the  plain  led  upwards  of  ten 
thousand  irrigating  canals,  and  the  water  was  brought 
into  the  city  so  that  every  garden  was  watered. 
Flowers  bloomed  in  incredible  abundance,  and 
Omar's  garden  was  one  mass  of  gorgeous  roses, 
double  roses,  white  and  pink  and  red  as  the  lips  of 


60  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

a  Khurasan  maid.  Omar  was  especially  proud  of 
the  bush  that  bore  a  great  yellow  rose  with  its  scar 
let  heart.  When  it  was  in  bloom  it  was  to  him  an 
undying  poem. 

While  the  rain  was  falling  musically  in  the  paved 
court,  and  was  dripping  from  every  leaf  in  his  thirsty 
garden  and  filling  the  central  tank  to  repletion,  Omar 
himself,  content,  if  not  wholly  calm,  made  ready  to 
compose  his  famous  treatise.  But  he  was  destined 
to  be  disturbed.  A  messenger  from  the  palace 
brought  word  that  the  Sultan  Malikshah  desired 
Omar's  presence.  "  A  dark  and  gloomy  day,"  said 
the  note,  "  requires  the  Sun  of  Poesy  to  shine  in  the 
Sultan's  palace." 

Omar  returned  word  that  he  would  put  the  neck 
of  humility  into  the  noose  of  obedience  and  would 
follow  the  messenger. 

The  thought  occurred  to  him,  that  perchance  he 
might  once  more  catch  a  glimpse  of  the, lovely  prin 
cess  or  princess's  attendant  —  he  cared  little  which. 
Fate  again  was  kind,  —  or,  if  by  infusing  still  more 
of  the  intoxicating  poison  of  desire,  —  one  would 
better  say  unkind  to  him  !  As  he  crossed  the  great 
hall  of  Attendance,  he  came  face  to  face  with  the 
same  two  ladies.  Again  it  was  only  a  glimpse,  but 
he  saw  that  she  was  tall  and  fair,  lovely  as  polished 
ivory,  with  dusky,  musky  ringlets,  blushes  like  the 
rich  pomegranate  flower,  eyes  as  soft  as  the  narcis- 


THE    VESTIBULE    OF   THE    ORIENT.  6l 

susi  but  overflowing  with  merriment,  eyelashes  like 
the  raven's  jetty  plumage,  brows  like  a  bow,  a  mouth 
all  sweetness ;  and  as  with  one  quick  glance  she 
drew  her  veil  across  her  face,  he  noticed  that  her 
ringers  were  tapering  and  delicate,  the  nails  slightly 
tinged  with  henna,  the  hand  as  beautiful  as  a  butter- 
fly's  wing.  What  struck  him  particularly  was  a  sort  v 
of  appealing  look  in  her  eyes  which  for  a  moment 
shaded  the  sunlight  of  their  smile.  Poor  Omar,  the 
trouble  that  "had  interfered  with  consecutive  thought 
when  applied  to  the  problems  of  weather  would  grow 
into  a  sort  of  delirium  if  many  times  more  that 
fascinating  maiden  should  cross  thy  path ! 

The  Sultan,  confined  to  the  palace,  or  rather  pre 
ferring  not  to  stir  out  in  such  a  pouring  rain,  had 
resolved  to  atone  for  the  disappointment  by  a  splen 
did  entertainment  within  doors.  If  the  dinner  at 
the  hunting-sarai  had  been  appetizing,  prepared  on 
the  hill-top  as  it  was,  what  could  be  said  of  the  feast 
that  the  Sultan  spread  for  his  guests  in  the  city, 
where  every  luxury  of  the  season  was  ready  at  hand  ? 
And  when  the  dozens  of  courses  perfectly  served 
were  accomplished,  the  Sultan  rising,  announced  that 
he  had  several  proclamations  to  make :  one  was  that 
Nizamu'l-Mulk's  friend,  Hasan  ben  Sabah,  at  the 
Wazir's  request,  was  appointed  to  the  responsible 
and  lucrative  position  of  mace-bearer ;  the  other 
was  that  Omar  al  Khayyami  was  henceforth  to  con- 


62  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

sider  himself  malikuash-shuher'  or  poet-laureate,  and 
also  court  astronomer,  with  an  annual  pension  of 
twelve  hundred  golden  mithkals  from  the  treasury 
of  Nishapur. 

And  Mah'kshah,  with  charming  grace,  recalled  the 

\f    example  of  the  great  poet  Firdausl,  author  of  the 
Shah-nama,  or  Book   of    Kings,  and   like  Omar,  a 

V  son  or  a  sun  of  Khurasan,  and  how  he,  on  promise  of 
a  gold  dirham  a  line,  wrote  sixty  thousand  lines,  and 
the  Sultan,  the  great  Mahmud,  sent  him  silver  instead 
of  gold.  But  after  Firdausf,  through  whom  Sultan 
Mahmud  would  be  forever  remembered,  leaving  a  bit 
ter  and  biting  epigram,  fled,  and  had  been  wandering 
for  years  in  poverty  and  wretchedness,  the  Sultan 
repented  and  sent  him  the  sixty  thousand  golden 
dirhams,  and  many  gifts  beside.  But  it  was  too 
late.  As  the  caravan  bearing  the  costly  gifts  from 
the  Sultan  to  the  poet  entered  one  gate  of  his  native 
Tus,  the  procession  bearing  his  body  went  forth 
through  the  other  to  lay  it  <  in  the  tomb  on  the 
mountain-side.  But  his  daughter  took  the  gold, 
and  erected  to  her  father  a  noble  monument  that 
V  bears  down  to  remote  poslejity  the  expiation  of 
the  Sultan. 

"  But  we,  O  Omar  al  Khayyami,  do  not  wait  until 
you  are  dead ,  —  may  Allah  remove  far  hence  that 
day!  —  to  give  you  this  mark  of  our  appreciation  of 
you  as  a  poet,  and  as  the  very  eye  of  science." 


THE    VESTIBULE    OF   THE    ORIENT.  63 

And  Omar,  even  as  he  heard  these  flattering 
words,  saw  the  living  vision  of  the  unknown  maiden, 
who  twice  had  by  miracle  crossed  his  path,  and  he 
welcomed  the  golden  mithkals  as  the  key  to  the  door 
of  his  happiness. 

The  feast  was  followed  by  an  exhibition  of  dancing 
girls.  Dressed  in  diaphanous  silks  of  Mosul,  the 
clinging  folds  of  which  patterned  themselves  to  every 
grace  of  curve  and  mould  of  beauty,  with  bare  feet 
and  ankles,  they  bent  and  swayed  to  the  voluptuous 
tinkling  of  the  lutes  played  by  the  cleverest  musi 
cians  of  the  East.  Through  intricate  evolutions  they 
now  acted  in  mute  pantomime  the  gracious  love  story 
of  Laili,  the  beautiful  Arab  girl,  who  stole  off  to  the 
desert  to  meet  her  lordly  lover,  Kais  Majnun,  —  a 
story  afterwards  exquisitely  told  by  Omar's  gifted 
pupil,  Nizami,  —  or  gave  a  dramatic  representation  of 
an  assaulted  haram  ;  now  they  intermingled,  bending 
and  glowing  like  a  bed  of  flowers  before  the  caress 
ing  wind,  now  marching  and  countermarching  till 
the  eye  was  almost  satiated  with  following  so  many 
entrancing  forms,  cypress-graceful,  their  high  breasts 
rounded  like  the  cup  of  Jamshid,  their  faces  wreathed 
with  smiles  of  pleasure  in  their  art,  and  the  apprecia 
tion  of  the  august  assemblage. 

Then  when  these  maidens  beautiful  as  the  Hur 
promised  the  faithful  in  paradise  had  finished  their 
evolutions,  the  chief  story-teller  was  called.  He 


64  OMAR    THE    TENTAfAKER. 

told  them  first  some  of  the  fables  of  Anw^ri  Suhali, 
and  then  the  story  of  the  two  angels,  Harut  and 
Marut. 

"Harut  and  Marut,"  he  said,  —  only  he  told  the 
story  with  quaint  repetitions,  and  with  fervor  of 
glowing  fancy,  —  "  were  two  of  God's  chief  angels. 
And  one  day  a  dispute  arose  between  Allah  and  the 
angels,  as  to  the  reason  of  sin  and  disobedience 
being  in  the  world.  And  H£rut  and  Marut  came 
down  to  earth  to  find  the  reason  for  man's  sin,  to 
learn  if  it  were,  as  Allah  said,  the  passion  and  lust 
that  tempt  poor  man.  Before  they  came  to  earth, 
God  taught  them  the  great  and  ineffable  name  which 
not  even  the  archangels  knew,  because,  knowing  it, 
they  would  be  equal  with  God,  and  able  to  create. 
But  to  Harut  and  Marut,  Allah  himself  taught  the 
ineffable  name.  And  to  earth  came  Harut  and 
Marut ;  they  came  first  to  Bab-El,  the  Gate  of  God, 
the  Sublime  Porte  of  the  East,  Babylon  the  mighty. 
And  they  there  studied  man,  and  the  works  of  man ; 
man  in  his  pride,  and  man  in  his  glory,  and  man  in 
his  sin.  And  Zuhra,  the  sweetest  singer  of  the  East, 
heard  of  Harut  and  Marut,  and  she  came  to  them, 
even  as  Balkis,  the  Queen  of  Saba,  came  to  Suley- 
man,  and  she  was  desirous  of  learning  the  ineffable 
name.  And  she  sang  for  them,  and  not  even  in 
paradise  had  they  heard  such  singing.  And  they 
fell  in  love  with  her,  for  particularly  susceptible  to 


THE    VESTIBULE    OF   THE    ORIENT.  65 

the  charms  of  earthly  women  were  of  aforetime  the 
emissaries  from  the  angels.  She  put  wine  before 
them,  wine  which  Muhammad  our  prophet  called 
the  mother  of  iniquities.  They  drank  of  the  intoxi 
cating  child  of  the  vine,  and  their  desire  for  her 
waxed  ever  greater;  they  forgot  their  errand  from 
on  high;  they  killed  Zuhra's  husband,  and  then 
Zuhra,  when  she  had  heard  from  Harut  and  Marut 
the  ineffable  name  washed  and  changed  her  raiment, 
and  going  forth  from  the  court  of  her  home,  and 
standing  by  the  water-pool,  she  uttered  the  ineffable 
name,  and  by  the  power  thereof  she  ascended  to  the 
sky,  where  she  merged  her  splendid  beauty  with  the 
star  Zuhra,  which  star  when  the  storm  shall  clear  we 
shall  see  hanging  over  the  western  mountains  like  a 
golden  lamp.  But  Allah  knew  that  Harut  and  Marut 
had  committed  the  terrible  sin.  He  called  them 
back,  and  before  all  the  angels  he  charged  them  with 
unfaithfulness  to  their  trust,  and  when  they  confessed 
that  they  had  sinned  even  as  mortals  sin,  by  reason 
of  lust  and  passion,  he  condemned  them  to  be  sus 
pended  head  down  in  a  pit  near  Bab-El,  the  Gate  of 
God.  There  they  forever  remain  unless  Allah  relent. 
They  blame  each  the  other  for  the  woe  that  is  theirs. 
And  men  bold  enough  have  visited  them  in  the  pit 
near  Bab-El,  and  have  learned  magic  of  them  ;  and  it 
was  from  Mujahid,  who  saw  them,  that  he  who  told 
me  this  tale  learned  that  Harut  and  Marut,  bound 


66  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

with  iron  bonds,  still  hang  in  the  pit  head  down, 
and  wait  for  the  judgment  day,  hoping  then  to  be 
released  from  their  penance." 

One  story  always  leads  to  or  suggests  another,  and 
the  great  nakkal  of  Nishapur,  Abdallah  ben  Yusuf 
told  the  familiar  tale  of  Ibrahim  and  his  handmaid 
Hagar,  and  how  Hagar  bore  him  a  son  —  his  wife 
Sarah  being  barren  —  and  the  boy's  name  was  Ish- 
ma-El,  the  beard  of  God.  But  Sarah  was  jealous. 
And  Ibrahim,  willing  to  escape  the  reproaches  of 
Sarah,  his  wife,  went  to  Sham  and  built  the  great  city 
of  Makka.  But  he  left  Hagar  in  the  wilderness  with 
her  son.  And  when  she  had  used  up  all  of  her  food, 
and  the  milk  in  her  breasts  dried  and  there  was 
nothing  for  her  baby  boy,  she  called  on  Allah,  and 
Allah  sent  Jibrafl  (Gabrael),  called  Zarosh  or  the 
messenger,  and  JibraJl  bade  her  go  to  the  mountain 
Safa  and  she  would  find  food.  Seven  times  she 
went  between  Safa  and  its  opposite  mountain 
Marvah,  and  her  soul  was  heavy  in  her  bosom, 
and  she  despaired  and  would  have  laid  herself 
down  and  perished,  but  at  last  she  found  the 
sacred  spring  Zam-zam,  which  proved  to  her  a  well 
of  healing  and  consolation.  And  once  again  Jibrafl 
came  to  her  and  blessed  her  for  her  faith  and  con 
stancy,  and  told  her  that  her  son  Ishmael  would  found 
a  great  people,  and  that  from  his  descendants  would 
arise  the  greatest  of  the  prophets,  who  would  lead  all 


THE    VESTIBULE    OF   THE    ORIENT.  6? 

peoples  to  the  Ka'aba  of  his  father  Ibrahim.  And 
once  a  year  Ibrahim  came  to  visit  Hagar  in  the  wil 
derness  and  brought  her  costly  gifts  on  his  camel, 
Zark.  And  to  this  day  pious  pilgrims  go  seven 
times  from  Safa  to  Marvah  and  from  Marvah  to  Safa, 
and  try  to  find  the  sacred  stream  Zam-zam,  the  water 
of  which,  said  Jibrail,  would  never  cease  to  flow. 

And  the  thought  of  the  desert  suggested  to  the 
Sultan's  story-teller  a  terrible  story  of  the  ghul  of 
the  desert  who  dwells  in  the  Dashti  Naummed,  or 
desert  of  despair,  and  who  lures  travellers  on  by  the 
strange  weird  music  of  the  Reg  rawan,  or  singing 
sand,  which  as  the  wind  plays  on  it  gives  forth  notes 
like  distant  drums  and  lutes.  Then  arises  before  his 
eyes  the  sihrab,  the  "  magic  waters,"  the  mirage  ; 
splendid  palaces  seem  to  beckon  to  him  ;  the  forms 
of  seductive  maidens  stand  under  the  crimson- 
flowered  Judas-tree ;  but  it  is  all  delusion ;  sud 
denly  arises  the  sand  storm ;  'tis  the  wings  of 
the  ghul,  and  the  poor  victim  blinded,  perishing  of 
thirst  and  starvation,  falls,  never  to  rise  again. 

"  The  fountain  is  far  off  in  the  desolate  wilderness : 
Because  lest  the  demon  deceive  thee  with  the  mirage." 

And  thus  story  led  to  story,  and  again  Omar  was 
called  on  to  give  the  august  audience  one  of  his 
poems,  but  he  rose  and,  laying  his  hand  on  his  heart, 
said  that  since  the  unequalled  ruler  of  the  world,  the 


68  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

defender  of  the  faith,  had  mentioned  that  renowned 
poet,  Abul  Kasim  Mansur  Firdausi,  he  would  repeat 
a  few  lines  from  the  Shah-nama,  the  epic  of  kings, 
the  Persian  of  yore,  and  in  a  voice  thrilling  with 
passion  and  power  he  cited  those  magnificent  lines : 

"  Paradari  mlkunad  dar  Kasr-i-Kaisar'  ankab&t — 
The  spider  weaves  her  web  in  the  Caesar's  palace, 
The  owl  stands  sentinel  on  the  watch-tower  of  Afrasiab." 

The  dramatic  fire  and  expression  which  he  threw 
into  those  sonorous  lines,  the  grace  with  which  he 
declaimed  them,  the  modesty  which  led  him  to  sub 
stitute  the  verses  of  the  great  national  poet  for  his 
own,  made  a  profoundly  favorable  impression  on  all 
present. 

What  would  Omar  have  thought  had  he  known 
that  behind  a  Chinese  screen  of  many  folds  were 
gathered  several  ladies  of  the  imperial  household, 
and  that  most  eagerly  listening  to  every  word  that 
fell  from  his  eloquent  lips  was  the  maiden  who 
had  already  cast  her  undying  spell  upon  him  ? 

Just  as  he  finished  repeating  the  lines,  the  lofty 
room,  where  they  were  seated  cross-legged  on  the 
softest  carpets  that  ever  looms  produced,  was  illumi 
nated  by  a  golden  radiance.  The  storm  had  passed, 
the  clouds  had  broken,  and  the  glorious  sun  sinking 
toward  the  western  mountains  sent  forth  his  part 
ing  salutation  to  the  world.  The  rays  seemed  to 


THE    VESTIBULE    OF   THE    ORIENT.  69 

crown  the  noble-looking  poet  as  with  a  jewelled 
halo.  His  face  was  still  glowing  with  the  enthusi 
asm  of  the  inspiration.  It  seemed  as  if  that  royal 
sun  of  Persia,  so  long  worshipped  on  those  mountain 
sides  and  on  that  very  plain,  had  consciously  wished 
to  make  an  apotheosis  of  the  poet  and  to  show  his 
appreciation  of  poesy  so  perfectly  in  consonance  with 
his  own  dethronement  from  the  land  of  Khurasan. 

As  Omar,  having  made  his  salam  to  Malfkshah,  and 
said  a  few  words  of  farewell  to  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  agree 
ing  to  spend  the  next  day  with  him,  was  about  to 
leave  the  palace,  the  Aga  Zalym,  intercepting  his 
path  apparently  by  accident,  thrust  into  his  hand 
a  tiny  slip  of  parchment.  Realizing  that  it  con 
tained  some  important  secret  that  should  not  be 
detected,  he  waited  until  he.  was  out  of  sight  of 
the  palace  before  he  dared  open  it  and  read. 

But  his  prescient  soul  told  him  that  it  was  a  mis 
sive  from  the  Unknown  maiden.  He  trembled  with 
eagerness.  He  hastened  his  steps,  and  when  he  was 
sure  that  he  was  secure  from  observation  he  unfolded 
the  precious  little  scroll. 

It  was  written  in  Greek ! 


CHAPTER   VII. 

AN    AMBITIOUS    SCHEMER. 

THE  Wazlr  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  fulfilled  the  promise 
made  a  score  of  years  before.  He  had  presented 
Hasan  ben  Sabah  to  the  Sultan,  and,  with  a  word  of 
recommendation,  procured  his  appointment  to  the 
lucrative  and  important  position  of  mace-bearer,  with 
the  promise  that  he  should  be  made  Ishflc-akasi'-bashi, 
or  Chief  Lord  of  the  Threshold.  The  Wazir  gave  him 
also  a  heavy  purse  of  gold,  and,  as  he  had  already 
y  provided  him  with  suitable  raiment,  he  would  have, 
indeed,  been  churlish  and  ungrateful  had  he  found 
fault  with  his  treatment. 

But  Hasan  ben  Sabah  was  an  inordinately  selfish 
and  ambitious  man.  He  had  prepared  himself 
during  his  long  residence  in  Egypt  with  a  training 
that  he  intended  should  make  him  a  power  in  the 
Oriental  world.  He  was  profoundly  learned.  He 
told  Malflcshah  : 

"  From  my  childhood,  even  from  the  age  of  seven, 
my  whole  endeavor  has  been  to  get  knowledge." 

Although  the  Sultan  had  come  to  Nishapur  for 
the  summer  season,  which  is  particularly  delightful 

70 


AN  AMBITIOUS  SCHEMER.  "Jl 

on  that  lofty  mountain-surrounded  plateau,  the 
climate  of  which,  if  variable,  is  regarded  as  the 
finest  in  the  world,  he  had  no  intention  of  relaxing 
the  cares  of  state.  Many  important  problems  faced 
him ;  the  sway  of  his  dynasty  was  to  be  spread 
through  Taberistan,  and,  if  possible,  his  banner  was 
to  be  carried  even  into  Syria,  Karman,  and  the 
farthest  provinces  of  Asia  Minor.  He  had  many 
plans  to  lay  and  great  preparations  to  make.  He 
welcomed  the  eager  willingness  of  Hasan  to  take 
hold  without  delay,  and  he  resolved  to  make  use  of 
a  man  who  spoke  so  many  languages  and  had  seen 
so  much  of  the  world. 

Some  of  Hasan's  story  had  been  true.  During  ten 
years  of  semi-obscurity  he  had  travelled  far,  and  had 
gone  even  to  Egypt  and  Spain.  His  father  had  died 
as  he  said ;  but  not  in  his  own  house,  nor  had  he  met 
with  losses.  His  father  had  suffered  from  the  repute 
of  being  a  heretic,  a  Motasal ;  but  he  bribed  Abu 
Muslim,  the  governor  of  the  province,  though  a 
Sunnite,  and  proud  of  his  orthodoxy,  to  vouch  for 
him,  and  the  bribe  was  not  small.  He  afterwards 
wearied  of  life  and  retired  to  a  monastery,  where  he 
died  at  a  good  old  age. 

The  part  of  the  story  that  he  told  his  two  friends 
about  being  carried  into  slavery  had  also  a  founda 
tion  of  truth  ;  but  he  displaced  it  in  its  chronological 
order.  It  must  have  been  sixteen  years  before,  for 


72  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

the  veiled  figure,  whom  he  had  brought  to  Omar's 
house  and  left  there  as  his  wife,  was  in  reality  his 
son,  Ostad-ben-Hasan,  a  youth  of  sixteen,  of  remark 
able  keenness  of  intellect,  though  without  beauty  of 
person.  Children  of  mixed  nationalities  are  apt  to 
inherit  peculiar  gifts,  and  Ostad's  mother  was  a 
Circassian,  whom  Hasan  had  met  and  carried  off  in 
somewhat  the  way  that  he  described.  Ostad  was 
completely  under  his  father's  influence,  and  obeyed 
him  implicitly  in  everything.  Just  why  he  had  dis 
guised  him  as  a  woman,  and  introduced  him  into 
Omar's  house,  would,  perhaps,  have  been  hard  to  say  ; 
and  how  was  he  to  explain  to  his  two  friends  the  dis 
appearance  of  Leila  without  exciting  their  suspicions  ? 
This  was  a  problem  that  he  had  to  face.  But  his 
plan  had  been  all  laid  beforehand.  Ostad  was  di 
rected  to  steal  quietly  out  of  Omar's  house  and  to 
go  to  a  certain  caravanserai  which  his  father  indi 
cated,  and  wait  there  until  he  should  send  for  him. 
His  plan,  in  case  he  was  appointed  to  office  as  he 
confidently  expected,  was  to  introduce  him  into 
court,  not  as  his  son,  but  as  his  page.  The  sup 
posed  disappearance  of  Leila  would  afford  sufficient 
excuse  for  him  not  to  enter  into  the  festivities  that 
he  felt  would  delay  his  purpose. 

Everything  so  far  was  working  as  he  had  antici 
pated.  He  was  placed  in  a  position  near  the  Sultan, 
and  he  had  no  doubt  that  by  his  usual  astuteness  he 


AN  AMBITIOUS  SCHEMER.  73 

would  soon  master  the  internal  machinery  of  the 
empire,  and  find  out  what  would  be  the  course  of 
external  politics  in  Asia,  if  not  in  Europe.  He  knew 
well  that  great  events  were  likely  to  happen,  that 
the  Christian  world,  alarmed  at  the  spread  of  Mu- 
hammadanism,  might  at  any  time  strike  at  the 
Oriental  powers ;  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  "  The 
Sword  of  Allah  "  would  never  rest  till  the  victorious 
hosts  of  the  Prophet  were  firmly  intrenched  in  the 
capitals  of  Europe. 

'Tis  a  great  thing  to  live  at  the  end  of  a  century ; 
great  to  live  at  the  end  or  at  the  beginning  of  an 
epoch.  Time  has  its  great  moments,  when,  as  it 
were,  its  alarum-bell  sounds  the  hour ;  it  has  its 
grand  climacterics  as  in  human  lives,  coming  in 
rhythmic  order ;  revolutions  occur  at  the  end  of  cen 
turies  ;  minds  above  the  ordinary  feel  instinctively 
that  these  seismic  disturbances  of  history  are  im 
pending.  Hasan  was  one  of  these  men.  He  realized, 
dimly,  perhaps,  since  the  collated  facts  of  history  . 
were  fewer  then  than  they  are  now,  that  the  world 
was  on  the  verge  of  a  crisis  ;  something  told  him 
that  he,  too,  was  destined  to  have  a  share  in  the 
work ;  but  just  what  he  did  not  yet  foresee.  He 
had  not  a  little  of  the  prophetic  insight,  too,  and 
there  was  a  constant  call  within  him  to  go  forth  and 
preach  a  new  gospel,  of  which  he  should  be  the 
central  sun. 


74  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

He  felt  that  the  first  step  had  been  taken  when 
the  Wazlr  received  him  so  generously  ;  another  when 
he  was  washed  and  clad ;  another  when  he  was 
bowing  low  and  kissing  the  ground  before  the  Sul 
tan  ;  and  having  thus  begun  he  had  already  gone  so 
far  that  he  had  a  room  in  the  palace  and  was  already 
counted  as  one  of  the  Counsellors.  The  second  day 
had  not  gone  before  he  had  quietly  procured  the 
presence  of  his  son  Ostad,  whom  he  lodged  near 
him.  Ostad  was  a  slender  stripling,  with  the  quietest 
and  most  unobtrusive  manners  possible.  He  was 
grave  beyond  his  years.  Never  did  the  suggestion 
of  a  smile  light  up  the  cold  depths  of  his  melancholy 
eye  or  curve  the  corners  of  his  compressed  lips. 
What  strange  experiences  had  so  early  quenched  the 
charming,  playful  spirits  of  youth  ?  What  dark  hori 
zon  lowered  before  him,  so  that  sunshine  seemed 
forever  absent  from  his  brow  shaded  by  thick  masses 
of  coal  black  hair  ?  Was  it  his  father's  oppressive 
personality  that  dominated  him  ?  It  would  have 
been  hard  to  tell  what  strains  of  fierce  and  untamed 
blood  ran  in  his  veins  or  what  hereditary  influences 
swayed  his  mysterious  soul.  He  was  the  embodi 
ment  of  obedience :  his  father  had  but  to  look,  and 
the  quick  intuition  of  Ostad  leaped  on  the  task  as  a 
tiger  leaps  on  the  prey.  His  was  one  of  those 
mathematical  minds  that  reach  abstruse  conclusions 
as  directly  as  lightning  leaps  from  magnet  to  magnet. 


AN  AMBITIOUS  SCHEMER.  75 

He  rarely  spoke,  having  learned  reticence  from  his 
father,  who  had  trained  him  sternly  and  severely. 
In  spite  of  his  youthfulness  he  was  wiser  in  most 
practical  affairs  than  many  a  graybeard.  Hasan  knew 
that  he  was  as  true  to  him  as  steel,  devoted  to  his 
interests  body  and  soul.  He  took  his  place  in  the 
Sultan's  household  as  naturally  as  if  he  had  lived  at 
court  all  his  life.  When  asked  as  to  his  page,  Hasan 
simply  gave  his  name  as  Ostad  ibn  'Ali  al-Kufai,  an 
Arab  boy  that  had  followed  him  and  proved  a  faithful 
servant. 

Nizamu'1-Mulk  meeting  Hasan  early  the  next 
morning,  invited  him  to  go  with  him  to  Omar's 
summer-house  by  the  river-side,  but  Hasan  politely 
declined,  saying  that  as  it  was  his  first  day  in  his 
new  office  he  thought  it  best  not  to  go  pleasuring. 
The  Wazir  replied  that  there  was  no  special  business 
that  required  such  diligence,  but  that  he  must  con 
sult  his  own  convenience. 

Hasan  perceived  that  he  had  made  a  mistake  in 
declining  the  invitation,  but  it  was  not  for  him,  having 
put  his  hand  to  the  plow,  to  turn  away.  He  merely 
said : 

"  Nay,  O  mighty  Regulator  of  the  Realm,  I  would 
fain  go  with  you,  but,  having  journeyed  far  since  the 
night  of  the  new  moon,  rest  is  to  me  even  more 
precious  than  the  communion  of  friendship.  An 
other  day  will  I  go  to  our  friend  Omar's  pavilion  and 


76  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

inhale  the  perfume  of  budding  roses.  But  to-day  I 
crave  indulgence  of  the  friendship  that  I  prize." 

This  was  a  plausible  excuse,  and  Nizamu'1-Mulk 
accepted  it  frankly.  Nevertheless,  he  said  to  him 
self  with  the  shrewdness  that  was  a  part  of  his 
character  : 

"  Even  from  the  first  day  I  must  guard  well 
against  surprises.  Hasan  is  deep  like  a  well ;  but  the 
truth  does  not  lurk  in  the  depths  of  that  well.  He 
claimed.  I  have  paid  the  claim.  Let  me  not  forget 
the  camel  and  the  Arab's  tent." 

And  aloud  he  said  : 

« Astahfyru  lldh  !  God  forbid  that  I  should  add  a 
feather  to  your  burden  of  weariness.  To-morrow 
will  be  another  day  and  the  week  that  begins  with 
Jak  shamba  ends  with  Shamba,  —  seven  days  with 
but  one  day  lost  to  pleasure !  Allah  bless  your  new 
office  and  you  and  yours  !  " 

Then  the  two  men  parted.  Hasan  went  in  search 
of  his  son,  and  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  mounting  his  horse, 
directed  his  way  to  the  abode  of  the  astronomer. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  POET'S  EDUCATION. 

WE  have  said  that  Nishapur  contained  several  ex 
cellent  libraries.  Among  the  manuscripts  there  pre 
served  —  a  few  years  afterwards,  alas  !  destined  to 
be  burned,  torn,  and  destroyed,  by  the  Turkish  tribes 
that  sacked  the  great  city  —  there  were  many  Greek 
scrolls  that  had  been  brought  into  Persia  and 
strangely  deposited  there,  just  as  a  stream  in  the 
mountains  brings  down  the  golden  grains  and  sweeps 
them  into  some  sink-hole  in  its  rocky  bed.  The 
knowledge  of  the  Greek  language  was  not  common 
in  Iran,  but  occasionally  an  adventurous  Hellen  made 
his  way  over  the  mountains  either  as  an  ambassador 
from  the  Greek  Emperor  or  more  frequently  as  a 
hostage  or  even  as  a  slave.  It  was  owing  to  the 
somewhat  impudent  remark  of  an  envoy  from  Kon- 
stantinos,  that  Malikshah  that  very  year  had  built 
the  castle  of  Shahdurr  or  King's  Pearl  on  the  sum 
mit  of  an  almost  inaccessible  crag.  For  the  two  were 
out  hunting  not  far  from  Isfahan,  and  the  Sultan's 
favorite  dog  made  his  way  to  an  incredible  height. 

77 


/8  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

The  Greek  ambassador  seeing  it,  remarked  that  in 
his  country  such  a  spot  would  have  been  chosen  for 
a  castle.  And  Mah'kshah  immediately  ordered  his 
pearl  of  castles  to  be  built  there. 

Omar  Khayyam  had  been  fortunate  enough  to 
become  acquainted  with  an  educated  Greek,  and 
with  him  had  explored  the  riches  of  the  manuscripts. 
With  him  he  had  read  Xenophon's  ever-fascinating 
story  of  the  expedition  of  the  Ten  Thousand  when 
Kurush  tried  to  wrest  the  kingdom  from  Artak- 
sathra,  and  so  narrowly  failed  of  changing  the  des 
tinies  of  Asia.  He  had  read  one  or  two  of  the  now 
forever  lost  plays  of  Aristophanes,  and  the  missing 
play  of  Alkmaion  of  Euripides.  He  had  read  Aris 
totle,  whose  philosophy  had  charmed  him,  and  Plato, 
the  prose  poet  of  Attica ;  but  most  of  all  had  he 
been  influenced  by  a  fragment  of  Epicurus,  which 
claims  that  the  gods  made  up  of  atoms  lived  apart 
from  the  world,  exercising  no  influence  on  the 
destinies  of  men,  who  were  the  blind  and  helpless 
children  of  fate,  their  greatest  good  consisting  in 
the  happiness  they  are  able  to  snatch  from  the 
passing  moment. 

There,  too,  had  he  found  Euclid's  immortal  trea 
tise,  and  one  of  his  most  pleasing  tasks,  undertaken 
solely  for  his  own  pleasure,  was  the  composition  of 
an  algebra  that  should  reduce  to  simpler  terms  the 
propositions  established  by  the  great  Alexandrean 


A   POET'S  EDUCATION.  79 

mathematician.  And  perhaps  we  ought  to  mention 
that  there  was  also  saved  most  mysteriously,  and 
undoubtedly  because  none  of  the  Muhammadan 
priests  knew  its  tenor,  a  fragment  of  the  Septu- 
agint.  It  contained  intact  the  Greek  translation 
of  the  Koheleth,  and  there  Omar  read  such  passages 
as  these : 

"  WJiat  profit  hath  a  man  of  all  his  labor  which  he 
taketh  under  the  sun  ? 

"  One  generation  passeth  away,  and  another  genera 
tion  comet h  ;  but  the  earth  abideth  forever. 
.  "  The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that  which  shall  be  ; 
and  tliat  which  is  done  is  that  which  shall  be  done.  .  . 

"  There  is  no  remembrance  of  former  things  ;  neither 
sliall  there  be  any  remembrance  of  things  that  are  to 
come  to  those  that  shall  come  after. 

"  There  is  nothing  better  for  a  man  than  that  he 
should  eat  and  drink,  and  that  he  should  make  his 
soul  enjoy  good  in  his  labor. 

"  Be  not  righteous  over  much  ;  neither  make  thyself 
over  wise.  WJiy  shouldst  thou  destroy  thyself? 

"  As  is  the  good,  so  is  the  sinner  ;  and  he  that  swear- 
eth  as  he  that  feareth  an  oatJi.  This  is  an  evil  among 
all  tilings  that  are  done  under  the  sun,  that  there  is 
one  event  ttnto  all. 

"  Go  thy  way,  eat  tJiy  bread  with  joy,  and  drink  thy 
wine  with  a  merry  Jicart.  .  .  .  Let  thy  garments  be 
always  white,  and  let  thy  head  lack  no  ointment  ,  .  , 


8O  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER.  . 

for  there  is  no  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor 
wisdom,  in  the  grave  whither  thou  goest" 

^Tnese  words  of  Hebrew  doubt  lingered  in  Omar's 
mind,  and  many  were  the  quatrains  which  he  wrote 
embodying  the  same  or  similar  thoughts.  It  was 
impossible  for  him,  being  thus  brought  into  contact 
with  certain  phases  of  Hellenic  philosophy,  to  remain 
satisfied  with  the  narrow,  bigoted  religion  of  the 
prophet.  Outwardly  he  may,  for  the  sake  of  ex 
ample,  or  from  sheer  indolence,  not  caring  to  give 
up  the  habits  of  his  boyhood,  have  conformed  with 
the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  Muhammadan  ritual ; 
but  he  never  hesitated  to  express  his  opinion  that 
one  creed  was  as  good  as  another.  Church  and 
Ka'aba,  rosary  and  cross,  pagoda  and  synagogue  and 
mas  j  id  were  all  the  same  to  him. 

"Seek  not  the  Ka'aba,"  he  sang,  "rather  seek 
a  heart."  •C/' 

in  spite  of  all  Muhammad's  prohibitions  he  ;• 
praised  wine,  the  ruby  wine  of  Mugh  ;  lie  declared 
that  simply  because  a  drunken  Arab  once  cut  the 
girth  of  Hamzah's  steed, —  Hamzah,  an  insignificant 
relative  of  the  prophet,  —  Muhammad  called  drink 
a  vice. 

Of  course,  such  outspoken  heresies  did  not  fail 
to  bring  him  into  disrepute,  but  his  wit  was  an 
armor  that  protected  him.  Besides,  though  he 
sang  of  the  pleasures  of  drunkenness,  he  was  never 


A    POET'S  EDUCATION.  8 1 

seen  intoxicated,  and  though  he  sometimes  sang  the  - 
lyric  praises  of  the  cypress-slender  minister  of  wine, 
and  gave  it  to  be  understood  that  his  chief  delight  in 
life  was  to  carouse  with  loose  women,  fair  as  the 
Hur  promised  as  companions  of  the  faithful  in  para 
dise,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  he  was  not  so  black  as  he 
painted  himself. 

One  episode  in  his  life  had  done  much  to  make 
him  understood  by  his  fellow  citizens.  A  certain 
doctor  of  the  law  was  particularly  severe  on  Omar's  r 
heresies,  and  left  unused  no  occasion  to  slur  at  his 
irregularities.  Omar  happened  to  hear  of  it.  Now, 
this  Halim  came  secretly  every  day  before  sunrise  to 
Omar's  house,  to  read  and  study  philosophy  with 
him.  Omar  gave  no  sign  that  he  knew  anything  of 
his  learned  pupil's  duplicity.  One  morning,  how 
ever,  he  kept  him  longer  than  usual.  Suddenly 
there  was  heard  in  the  street  a  tremendous  blaring 
of  trumpets  and  beating  of  drums.  Omar  and  his 
critic  went  to  the  door,  the  one  wondering,  the  other 
knowing  what  was  its  cause.  When  all  the  people 
had  gathered  in  the  street,  Omar  raised  his  hand, 
and  the  musicians,  instructed  beforehand,  ceased 
their  din.  Then  Omar,  good  humor  beaming  from 
his  handsome  face,  exclaimed,  at  the  top  of  his  voice  : 

"Men  of  Nishapur,  behold  your  teacher!  He 
comes  every  morning  secretly  to  me  and  studies 
philosophy  and  science  with  me.  But  you  know 


82  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKKR. 

well  how  he  speaks  of  me  behind  my  back.  If  I 
am  really  the  heretic  and  law-breaker  that  he  tells 
you  I  am,  why  does  he  come  to  study  with  me  ? 
And  if  he  knows  that  I  am  not  a  man  to  be  feared, 
why  then  does  he  abuse  his  teacher?" 

The  HaHm,  abashed  at  being  thus  publicly  ex 
posed,  slunk  away,  and  thereafter  left  Omar  his 
morning  hour  free  for  other  and  more  congenial 
duties.  If  there  was  any  one  thing  that  Omar 
detested  with  all  his  honest  heart  it  was  hypocrisy, 
and  the  city  often  was  stirred  to  laughter  by  some 
x^audacious  quatrain  floating  about  and  holding  up  the 
learned  ulemd  or  the  hypocritical  priests  of  Islam 
to  scorn. 

The  Greek  note  that  he  received  he  was  able, 
thanks  to  his  studies  in  Hellenic  lore,  to  decipher, 
and  for  the  most  part  to  understand.  It  ran  to  this 
effect : 

"0  Poet  — 

"  /  overheard  thy  poem,  and  I,  being  Greek,  though  having 
lived  long  years  in  Persia,  am  bolder  than  it  -would  become  a 
maiden  of  I r An  to  be.  I  "would  fain  hear  more  of  thy  verses. 
Also  I  would  gladly  return  to  my  own  land.  But  I  see  no 
•way  to  compass  it.  1  know  I  may  trust  thy  face,  even  as  thou 
tnayest  trust  the  Agd  Zalym.  If  thou  wilt  sometime  let  me 
ask  thy  advice,  when  next  thou  earnest  wear  a  yellow  rose  or 
one  of  the  pink-streaked  wild  poppies  of  Shir&z  and  leave  the 
rest  to  me.  If  the  seed  I  sow  fall  on  stony  ground  in  thy 
heart,  heed  me  not,  and  forget  that  I  wrote  to  thee" 


A    POET'S  EDUCATION.  83 

The  note  was  signed  Agape. 

Omar  was  dumbfounded  ;  how  should  the  beautiful 
Greek  girl  know  that  he  could  read  Greek  ?  Why 
should  she  have  selected  him  to  aid  her  in  escaping 
from  the  Court  ?  Might  it  not  be  a  plot  to  ruin 
him  ?  Then  he  remembered  the  look  of  mute  appeal 
that  he  had  detected  in  her  eyes  the  second  time 
they  met.  He  had  not  understood  it  then.  Now 
the  mystery  of  it  appealed  to  all  the  romantic  in 
stincts  of  his  heart ;  for  eight  and  forty  hours  he 
had  been  haunted  by  those  beautiful  eyes.  But  the 
first  time  he  saw  her  they  were  full  of  merriment, 
and  her  laughter,  as  he  had  overheard  it,  was  sweeter 
and  clearer  than  the  tinkle  of  crystalline  waters  in  a 
basin  of  mother  of  pearl.  How  was  that  gayety  to 
be  reconciled  with  the  homesickness  that  breathed 
through  her  note,  and  evidently  drove  her  to  such  a 
risky  step? 

These  questions  were  impossible  to  answer,  but 
he  resolved  to  follow  the  adventure  to  the  end  and 
see  what  would  come  of  it.  The  flavor  of  danger 
was  not  its  least  attraction.  He  was  restless,  and 
his  mind  wandered  from  his  mathematical  work ;  he 
could  not  sleep,  and  when  the  night  was  far  spent 
he  went  out  and  looked  at  the  sky,  now  swept  clear 
of  every  cloud.  A  meteor  leaped  suddenly  from  the 
zenith  down  in  a  long  curve  toward  the  mountains, 
behind  which  it  disappeared  leaving  an  evanescent 


84  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

trail  of  light.  He  laughed  as  he  thought  that  the 
superstitious  muazzfn  on  the  minaret  would  predict 
misfortune  for  some  one.  Did  it  forebode  disaster 
for  him,  or  for  the  generous  Sultan?  Day  was 
approaching.  The  strange  phenomenon  of  the 
Subh-i-nakhust  or  False  Dawn  was  clearly  defined 
on  the  eastern  sky,  —  white  against  dark  like  a  wolf's 
tail.  Into  Omar's  mind  came  that  beautiful  quatrain, 
where  he  compares  true  love  with  insincere : 

"A  lover  takes  nor  rest,  nor  peace,  nor  food,  nor  sleep 
Through  year  and  month  and  night  and  day" 

And  when  he  had  composed  that  he  composed 
another  which  he  vowed  should  be  presented  to  the 
beautiful  woman  he  loved  : 

"  The  breath  of  the  early  Spring  in  the  face  of  the  Rose  is  sweet ; 
The  Face  of  my  Love  in  the  shade  of  the  garden-close  is  sweet ; 
Naught  thou  canst  say  of  the  day  that  has  faded  away  is  sweet; 
Be  happy;  speak  not  of  the  past,  for  to-day  as  it  glows  is  sweet!  "  * 

He  could  hardly  wait  for  the  day,  and  yet  he  knew 
that  he  should  not  see  Agap£  for  another  four  and 
twenty  hours.  It  had  been  arranged  that  he  and 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  were  to  pass  the  morning  together  at 
a  favorite  bustan  or  garden  on  the  banks  of  the  river 
not  far  from  Nishapur.  This  spot  had  been  imitated 
from  the  Zinda-rud  at  Isfahan,  which,  as  every  one 
1  In  the  mutakarib  meter. 


A   POET'S  EDUCATION.  85 

knows,  is,  or  was,  the  loveliest  river  in  Persia,  flow 
ing  amid  gardens  and  palaces.  Here  there  were  no 
palaces,  but  the  bulbul  sang  with  all  the  passion  of  a 
soul  that  loves  and  can  never  express  all  the  height 
and  depth  of  its  longing.  The  fragrance  of  the  roses 
was  forever  wafted  on  the  soft  breeze,  and  the  mur 
mur  of  the  river,  as  it  flowed  down  to  lose  itself 
in  the  desert,  was  soft,  like  a  perpetual  flowing 
music.  Omar  always  spent  many  hours  in  the 
warm  season  under  the  shade  of  a  pretty  arched 
summer-house  or  pavilion  overlooking  the  river  and 
the  poppy  fields  beyond.  It  belonged  to  a  sort  of 
tavern  or  refectory,  the  proprietor  of  which  was  a 
genuine  Parst,  who  prided  himself  on  his  descent 
from  the  old  sect  of  the  Fire  Worshippers.  He 
liked  the  poet-astronomer,  and  also  gave  him  of  his 
best  cheer  when  he  came  there  for  a  day's  outing. 
When  Omar  heard  the  intimation  that  the  Wazir 
would  like  to  accompany  him  thither,  he  sent  word 
to  the  mai-farush  or  inn-keeper  that  a  party  would 
be  there  that  day,  and  asked  him  to  save  his  pavil 
ion  for  him,  and  have  his  best  entertainment  and 
his  most  skilful  saki  or  cup-bearer  and  his  best  lute- 
player  at  his  service. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

A    DAY    IN    THE    BUST^N. 

THE  sun  had  hardly  dried  the  raindrops  from  the 
roses  when  Nizamu'1-Mulk  appeared.  He  was  ac 
companied  by  a  single  rider,  who  bestrode  a  horse 
which  would  not  have  attracted  attention  where  horses 
were  compared  with  the  Arabian  standard.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  garb  which  suggested  a  disguise,  but  even 
before  he  reached  the  house  Omar  thought  he  recog 
nized  something  familiar  about  his  person.  And  as 
the  two  dismounted,  and,  leaving  the  horses  with  a 
zin-dal,  entered  the  court,  Omar  realized  that  it  was 
the  Sultan  himself  who  had  come  to  visit  him  incog 
nito.  It  was  a  favorite  entertainment  of  Malikshah 
to  assume  a  disguise  and  go  out  into  the  city.  All 
wise  monarchs  have  had  this  desire  to  mingle  with 
their  subjects,  to  hear  the  truth  from  uncourtly  lips, 
to  see  for  themselves  how  life  goes  among  the  great 
masses  of  the  citizens ;  sometimes,  to  be  sure,  to 
carry  on  petty  intrigues.  Malflcshah  had  then  come 
to  visit  Omar  in  his  comparatively  humble  home. 
Etiquette  would  have  required  that  the  host  should 

86 


A   DAY  IN  THE 

not  appear  to  penetrate  the  disguise,  but  the  Sultan 
had  come  to  unbend  and  to  lay  aside  for  a  little  the 
cares  of  state.  So  when  he  was  free  from  danger  of 
espionage  he  threw  the  hampering  cords  of  conven 
tionality  aside  and  was  as  charming  a  companion  as 
could  be  found. 

He  proposed  to  spend  the  day  with  Omar  and  the 
Wazir  and  to  accompany  him  to  the  summer-pavilion  ; 
but  first  he  was  interested  to  see  how  Omar  lived ; 
he  wanted  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  aged 
Ziba-khanum,  to  whom  he  addressed  kindly  words 
of  interest,  such  as  win  a  woman's  heart,  however 
young  or  old  she  be,  and  then  he  wanted  to  see 
Omar's  garden,  and  particularly  his  mathematical 
appliances.  He  was  delighted  with  a  water-clock 
which  measured  time  with  no  small  degree  of  accu 
racy,  and  he  was  interested  in  a  kind  of  orrery,  con 
structed  by  Omar  himself,  and  representing  the 
celestial  sphere,  the  signs  of  the  zodiac,  and  the 
revolutions  of  the  planets.  Then  there  was  a  sort 
of  arch  in  one  corner,  with  a  perforated  top  like  a 
dome,  and  the  sun's  rays,  falling  through  the  aper 
tures,  struck  on  certain  lines  on  the  pavement  which 
indicated  in  degrees  and  minutes  the  altitude  of  the 
sun,  and  thus  the  period  of  the  year.  All  these  con 
trivances  were,  of  course,  primitive  and  crude,  but 
they  proved  a  certain  mechanical  turn,  and  served 
their  purpose. 


88  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Mali'kshah  asked  various  intelligent  questions 
which  Omar  answered  with  modesty  and  clear 
ness,  and  showed  that  in  his  knowledge  of  astron 
omy  he  was  far  ahead  of  the  science  of  his 
time.  He  spoke  with  some  scorn  of  the  barbarous 
and  inaccurate  calendar  which  was  in  general  use, 
and  was  supposed  to  date  back  to  Jamshfd,  and  was 
cumbersome  and  inaccurate.  He  also  gave  his  rea 
sons  for  believing  that  the  earth  was  round.  The 
Sultan  listened  with  the  keenest  interest,  and  before 
they  left  the  house  he  had  promised  that  Omar 
should  have  a  well-equipped  observatory  on  the  hill 
where  the  hunting-sarai  was  situated,  and  every 
instrument  that  the  best  brass-makers  of  Iran  could, 
under  his  direction,  construct.  He  also,  then  and 
there,  resolved  that  he  would  distinguish  his  reign 
by  a  revision  of  the  calendar,  and  entrust  the  task  to 
no  one  else  but  Omar ;  of  this,  however,  he  said 
nothing  at  that  time,  as  he  would  have  to  consult 
his  counsellors  as  to  the  effect  of  such  a  far-reaching 
change. 

Meantime  Ziba-khanum  had  prepared  a  delicious 
sherbet,  and  a  neat  little  sharbat-dar  or  waiter 
brought  it  to  the  guests  as  they  sat  in  the  shady 
garden,  where  the  water  tinkled  in  the  fountain  and 
the  fishes  splashed  in  the  quadrangular  tank. 

Meantime  a  servant  from  the  palace  had  brought 
another  horse  for  Omar,  and  then,  at  the  suggestion 


A    DAY  IN   THE   BUSTAN.  89 

of  Mali'kshah,  the  three  men  mounted  and  rode 
slowly  through  the  city  and  out  the  Southern  gate, 
the  Dar-i-Janub.  Outside  the  walls  men  were  still 
plowing  with  cumbrous  wooden  plows.  The  air  was 
full  of  fragrance*,'  with  thousands  of  fruit-trees  in 
bloom.  The  sunlight  glinted  gayly  on  the  water 
courses  and  on  the  fresh-washed  foliage  of  the  vine 
yards  and  orchards.  Years  of  uninterrupted  pros 
perity  had  shown  what  the  valley  could  do  in  the 
way  of  productiveness  ;  it  was  one  beautiful  garden 
in  which  were  produced  all  the  fruits  that  the  appe 
tite  of  man  might  crave.  A  little  farther  on  the 
Sultan,  who  was  of  a  practical  nature  in  spite  of  his 
love  of  poetry,  was  interested  in  the  operations  of  a 
windmill,  made  of  two  parallel  walls  of  sun-dried 
bricks,  and  fitting  into  a  cross-beam  was  the  revolv 
ing  post  furnished  with  wings  and  fastened  at  the 
bottom  to  a  round  mill-stone.  When  the  wind  blew 
it  rushed  into  this  trap  and  caused  the  mill-stone  to 
grind.  The  Sultan  insisted  on  stopping  to  examine 
it  thoroughly,  and  after  he  had  questioned  the  miller 
he  tossed  him  a  gold  coin  and  rode  away,  saying, 
"Allah  keep  you,  body  and  soul,  in  his  protection." 
After  riding  for  an  hour  they  reached  the  bustan, 
which  was  their  goal.  In  the  eyes  of  the  faithful  it 
was  an  unholy  place,  because  wine  flowed  freely 
there.  It  was  mainly  visited  by  those  that  justified 
themselves  on  the  ground  that  they  were  Sufis,  and 


9O  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

therefore  freed  from  the  strict  interpretation  of  the 
prophet's  command.  In  later  years  the  doctrine  of 
the  Sufis  underwent  great  changes,  growing  onerously 
complicated,  so  that  even  the  poems  of  Sa'adi  and 
Hafiz  are  twisted  out  of  their  natural  meaning,  and 
interpreted,  word  by  word  and  line  by  line,  into 
absurd  and  far-fetched  esoteric  meaning.  But  at 
this  time  the  Sufis  were  hardly  more  than  free 
thinkers.  To  be  sure  they  had  their  scheme  of  four 
stages  through  which  any  one  was  supposed  to  pass 
ere  he  reached  hakikat,  or  the  absolute  truth  and  the 
divine  union  with  divinity.  But  many,  then  as  now, 
were  content,  having  passed  through  the  first  stage, 
which  required  the  disciples  to  live  in  accordance 
with  the  holy  law,  and  to  observe  all  the  rites  and 
ceremonies,  such  as  are  useful  for  the  great  mass  of 
humanity,  to  remain  in  the  second  stage,  called  the 
path  (harikat).  Persons  who  have  arrived  at  this 
fortunate  stage  may  abandon  religious  forms  and 
ceremonies,  and,  though  nominally  great  purity, 
virtue,  and  fortitude  are  required,  the  license  per 
mitted  by  the  disciple's  conscience  easily  degenerates 
into  self-indulgence. 

\,  The  true  Sflfi  is  an  ogtimist,  regards  everything 
as  good  and  divinely  ordained  for  his  pleasure ;  to 
him  religion  and  infidelity  are  equally  indifferent ; 
the  lawful  and  the  unlawful  are  alike ;  he  eats  what 
is  set  before  him,  asking  no  questions  ;  his  women  go 


A   DAY  IN   TtfE  BUS  TAN.  9 1 

unveiled,  and  the  drinking  of  wine  is  as  Omar 
said  : 

"Drink  ivine,for  this  is  the  life  eternal,  — this  is  the 
season  of  roses,  and  wine,  and  joyous  companions  ;  be 
happy  for  an  instant,  for  this,  this  is  life  /" 

And  even  as  he  now  rode  along  with  the  Sultan 
and  the  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  he  was  thinking  out  the 
quatrain  that  runs  something  like  this  in  humble 
prose  : 

"  In  the  time  of  roses  —  the  fasl-i-gul,  —  on  the 
river  s  brink,  on  the  grassy  edge  of  the  garden,  drink 
wine  with  one,  tivo,  tJiree  choice  companions,  and  a 
few  young  maidens  fair  as  the  Htir  of  Paradise  !  " 

Little  did  the  sharab-furush  who  kept  the  tavern 
that  Omar  liked  to  patronize  imagine  that  the  two 
men  in  simple  dress,  and  accompanied  by  only  one 
servant,  were  the  two  chief  officers  of  the  Seljuk 
Sultanate  —  even  the  Sultan  himself  and  his  famous 
Wazir !  He  would  have  stared  with  his  little  round 
eyes  and  gone  and  whispered  the  news  to  his  other 
guests  and  thenceforth  boasted,  all  his  life  long,  of 
the  honor  that  had  been  done  him.  He  suspected 
naught,  though  he  was  not  a  little  awed  at  the 
dignity  of  the  three  guests,  and  he  gave  them  his 
best  pavilion,  which  was  furnished  with  a  luxurious 
divan  and  soft  cushions  of  Shiraz  silk.  There  they 
took  their  places,  and  the  graceful  saki  soon  brought 
them  cups  brimming  full  of  the  ruddiest  wine  that 


92  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

ever  glowed,  ruby-like,  in  the  spring  sun.  Before 
them  flashed  the  rippling  waves  of  the  river  curled 
by  the  fragrant  breeze ;  over  their  heads  waved  the 
branches  of  the  plane-trees ;  beyond  on  the  other 
bank  a  poppy  field,  all  aglow  with  myriad  shades  of 
yellow  and  crimson,  had  the  appearance  of  a  gorgeous 
carpet.  The  charming  picture  was  framed  in  an 
exquisite  arch  of  what  one  might  call  Moorish  design ; 
the  birds  were  singing  as  if  their  hearts  were  full. 

A  farrash  came  and  spread  a  beautiful  prayer-rug 
on  the  tessellated  pavement,  and  just  outside  a  lute- 
player  took  up  her  position,  and  touched  the  strings 
with  long,  slender  fingers,  breathing  forth  the  ten- 
derest  strains  that  were  ever  heard.  Then  a  single 
dancer,  swaying  like  a  lily,  and  with  bare  feet  and 
slender,  graceful  ankles,  came  forth,  and,  waving  her 
bare  round  arms,  began  a  series  of  pantomimic  im 
personations,  unlike  anything  which  the  place  had 
ever  seen  before. 

Omar  was  electrified.  He  could  not  believe  his 
eyes,  and  yet  he  could  not  be  mistaken  ;  the  fair 
rakkas  was  none  other  than  Agapd,  the  mysterious 
Greek  maiden,  the  beautiful  idol  of  his  heart.  He 
knew  by  her  eyes  that  she  had  recognized  him.  But 
how  came  she  there  ?  That  was  a  question  he  asked 
himself  and  could  not  answer.  If  she  had  managed 
by  her  own  Greek  cunning  to  escape  from  the 
anderun,  and  had  dared,  with  unparalleled  audacity, 


A    DAY  IN   THE   BUST  AN.  93 

to  run  the  risk  of  recognition  by  Malikshah  and 
Nizamu'1-Mulk,  what  would  she  not  dare  to  do  ?  He 
actually  trembled  to  think  of  the  consequences.  But 
neither  the  Sultan  nor  his  Wazlr  seemed  to  see  any 
thing  unusual  in  the  phenomenon !  Malikshah,  as 
he  sipped  the  liquid  ruby  of  the  wine,  looked  lan 
guidly  on  at  the  dance,  which  was  perfectly  free  from 
improper  suggestion  or  voluptuous  display,  enjoyed 
the  graceful  spectacle,  which  was  so  harmoniously 
related  to  the  beauty  of  the  day,  the  perfume  of  the 
roses,  which  now  and  then  dropped  their  blood-red 
petals,  the  cloudless  sky  seen  through  the  foliage  of 
the  plane-trees,  and  the  sparkle  of  the  clear  river, 
and  he  said : 

"  Ya  Allah !  the  maiden  dances  with  grace,  and 
she  is  beautiful.  Had  I  my  jika  here  she  should 
have  the  diamond  that  fastens  it  to  my  crown." 

"  Bali !  Yea,  verily,"  said  the  Waztr  with  a  touch 
of  irony,  "  she  deserves  the  Sultan's  favorite  diamond, 
the  darya-i-nur  (Sea  of  Light),  and  what  would  friend 
Omar  give  her  ? "  he  asked,  turning  to  the  poet,  who 
had  eyes  for  nothing,  for  no  one  else. 

"  He  would  give  her  one  of  his  rubaiyat ! "  ex 
claimed  the  Sultan.  "  Come,  O  my  prince  of  poets, 
pronounce  a  quatrain  which  shall  bring  the  color  to 
the  maiden's  brow." 

Omar,  as  if  inspired,  looked  into  Agap£'s  lovely 
eyes,  and  in  a  low  and  trembling  voice  repeated  that 


94  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

quatrain,  which  eight  hundred  years  later  sang  itself 
to  music  in  an  English  garden-close : 

"A  Book  of  Verses  underneath  the  Bough, 
A  Jug  °f  Wine,  a  Loaf  of  Bread — and  Thou 

Beside  me  singing  in  the  li'ilderness, 
Oh,  Wilderness  were  Paradise  now." 

But  in  the  original  there  was  a  somewhat  auda 
cious  allusion  to  the  Sultan,  to  the  effect  that  if  he 
and  the  fair  one  were  in  the  desert  together,  it  were 
a  joy  which  the  power  of  the  Sultan  could  not  dimin 
ish  or  bound  !  But  the  Sultan  cared  not  for  that ; 
he  was  delighted : 

"Barik  Allah!  Praise  God,"  he  cried,  "that  we 
have  a  poet  so  ready  with  verses  !  Now  give  us  one 
on  the  day  and  the  hour !  " 

Again,  Omar,  as  it  were  inspired  by  the  face  of  the 
lovely  Greek  girl,  broke  forth  with  this  improvisation 
in  the  typical  metre  of  the  ruba"i : 

"  How  pleasant  is  this  day ;  neither  too  hot  nor  too  cold! 
The  rain  washed  the  dust  and  the  roses'1  heart  has  consoled; 

The  Bul-bul  in  Pahlavl  tells  the  bright  yellow  rose: 
«  O  drink  of  the  red  wine  /  ere  the  sweet  day  shall  grow  old.'  " 

The  Greek  maiden  with  graceful  imperiousness 
seized  the  wine-jug  from  the  waiting  saqi,  who 
frowned  at  first  until  she  smiled  on  him,  when  he, 
too,  smiled,  and  she  filled  the  cups  of  the  three 
friends. 


A    DAY  IN   THE   BUSTAN.  95 

"  Give  her  a  question  in  mathematics,"  cried 
Nizamu'1-Mulk,  who,  warmed  and  made  good-na 
tured  by  the  generous  wine  so  strange  to  his  lips, 
was  entering  with  all  his  heart  into  the  spirit  of  the 
occasion,  and  was  disposed  to  treat  her  as  his  equal 
for  the  time  being,  —  and  indeed  by  birth,  she,  though 
now  an  exile,  was  more  than  his  equal.  "  Give  her  a 
problem  in  your  favorite  algebra !  " 

Omar  looked  at  Malikshah  as  if  to  see  what  he 
would  say,  but  the  Sultan  gently  nodded. 

Then  Omar,  beckoning  to  Agape  to  come  nearer, 
and  as  she  came,  feasting  his  eyes  on  her  beauty,  — 
to  him  she  was  the  very  pearl  of  women,  —  gently 
took  her  hand  and  said  : 

"Well,  fair  dancer,  since  I  must,  I  will  give  thee 
a  problem  to  answer.  Tell  me  this :  Out  of  a 
swarm  of  golden  bees  one-fifth  part  flew  to  a 
kadamba  blossom ;  one-third  lighted  on  a  silin- 
dhra-flower ;  three  times  the  difference  betwixt 
those  numbers  fled  to  the  bending  branch  of  a 
si'ngit-tree,  very  fragrant,  bending  over  a  glassy 
stream.  The  bee  that  remained  hovered  about 
the  mouth  of  a  lovely  maiden,  taking  her  to  be  a 
rose.  Tell  me,  charming  dancer,  the  number  of 
bees !  " 

"  In  asan  nist !  This  is  not  easy !  "  she  murmured 
in  pretty  Pahlavt  showing  the  trace  of  her  Greek 
accent.  "But  methinks  the  number  of  bees  will 


96  OMAR    THE    TENTAfAKEK. 

be  the  same  as  the  number  of  poems  which  I  could 
wish  to  listen  to  in  a  long  summer's  day  from  the 
lips  of  the  sweetest  poet  of  Nishapur ! " 

"  Crown  the  Poet  of  Nishapur !  Crown  him  with 
roses ! "  cried  the  Sultan,  and  he  pointed  to  a  rose- 
tree  in  full  bloom. 

Agape,  flushed  with  pleasure,  went,  and  gathering 
a  great  armful  of  royal  blossoms  deftly  wove  them 
into  a  wreath  which,  when  it  was  completed  so  that 
no  thorn  might  prick  his  brow,  she  gracefully  laid  on 
his  thick  waving  hair. 

Then  she  hastily  withdrew,  and,  as  she  vanished 
round  the  carved  pillar  that  stood  beside  the  arched 
entrance,  Omar  imagined  he  saw  the  burly  form  of 
the  Aga  Zalym,  and  he  was  still  more  mystified. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THREE    FRIENDS    AT    PLAY. 

BY  this  time  it  was  near  the  hour  of  noon  prayer. 
The  three  men  had  not  come  to  carouse.  In  spite  of 
Omar's  somewhat  impudent  and  sacrilegious  quat 
rains  about  the  virtue  of  drunkenness,  he  was  really 
temperate.  He  knew  the  dangers  of  overindulgence 
in  any  luxury.  He  enjoyed  it  the  more  that  it  was 
forbidden,  but  he  did  not  care  to  abuse  his  liberty. 

The  three  friends,  for  such  they  might  certainly 
be  called,  were  now  weary  of  inaction.  After  the 
call  to  prayer  had  been  heeded,  and  they  had  knelt 
toward  the  East,  they  got  up  for  a  stroll  among 
the  sweet-scented  paths  of  the  bustan.  As  they 
went  the  Sultan  said  : 

"  Rest  and  relaxation  are  good  for  the  mind  as 
well  as  for  the  body.  We  have  rested  ;  we  have  spent 
the  morning  in  idleness  ;  I  have  now  many  things  to 
think  and  talk  about.  First  I  would  speak  of  Hasan 
ben  Sabah." 

Instead  of  speaking,  however,  he  paused  for  a 
moment,  and  looked  down  at  the  river,  which  was 

97 


98  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

wider  there,  and  somewhat  choked  with  tamarisk. 
Some  boys  along  the  shore  were  playing  with  a  raft 
which  they  had  constructed  of  bulrushes,  and  bound 
together  with  tamarisk.  They  had  showed  no  small 
ingenuity  in  their  device ;  it  was  large  enough  to 
hold  two  of  them,  and  these  two  were  paddling  about 
trying  to  get  into  the  clearer  channel.  Several  other 
boys  on  the  bank  were  shouting  directions  to  the 
two ;  the  merry  ring  of  their  laughter  came  cheerily 
on  the  soft  breeze.  Far  beyond,  the  mountains  raised 
their  jagged  heads ;  the  plain  was  swarming  with 
industries.  Such  prosperity  gave  the  Sultan  cause 
for  thought. 

"  Your  Kizzil  Bash,"  said  he,  addressing  Omar, 
and  calling  the  Persians  by  their  quaint  old  name, 
which  means  Red  Heads  —  "  your  Red  Heads  are  a 
singularly  prosperous  and  happy  people.  The  plain 
—  how  many  watercourses  and  canals  has  it  ? " 

"  It  is  watered  by  twelve  thousand  karez  streams, 
and  twelve  larger  courses  ;  it  has  an  abundance  of 
abambars  or  water  cisterns  that  keep  the  water 
against  the  drought  caused  by  the  '  One  Hundred 
and  Forty  Days  Wind,'  —  these  are  a  farsakh  or 
two  apart.  If  you  will  raise  your  august  eyes  you 
will  see  here  and  there  across  the  plain  the  domes 
that  cover  them.  Tis  irrigation  makes  the  land  so 
fertile,  and  the  climate  so  delightful  in  summer." 

Omar  with  his  quick  wit  saw  what  these  questions 


THREE   FRIENDS  AT  PLAY.  99 

portended.  He  was  sorry  to  be  even  the  remote 
cause  of  putting  on  the  thumbscrews  of  taxation. 

"  But  to  return  to  Hasan  ben  Sabah  :  he  seems  to 
be  a  man  of  mark.  I  had  him  with  me  last  evening. 
A  profoundly  learned  and  acute  mind ;  but  he  has 
no  small  opinion  of  himself  and  his  abilities.  Almost 
his  first  remark  was  that  Nishapur,  for  a  city  so  large 
and  prosperous,  paid  too  little  revenue  into  the  impe 
rial  treasury.  What  think  you  thereof,  O  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  —  you,  who  think  of  everything?  " 

"  Nishapur  has  fortunately  escaped  from  any  re 
cent  raid,"  said  the  Wazir.  "  It  has  had  its  share 
of  misfortunes ;  but  it  is  happily  situated,  and  soon 
recovers  from  whatever  blow  is  struck.  Behold  it 
from  this  knoll ;  you  might  think  that  it  had  stood 
for  ages.  And  yet,  less  than  fifty  years  ago  it  was 
levelled  to  the  ground,  and  many  of  its  inhabitants 
were  carried  into  Afghanistan.  The  mountains  give 
excellent  shelter  to  raiders.  It  behooves  a  wise  ruler 
to  keep  them  well  guarded." 

"  Nevertheless,  methinks  the  fair  city  might  stand 
a  little  more  pressure.  How  are  the  mines  ?  There 
are  mines,  are  there  not  ?  " 

Malikshah  had  received  only  the  day  before  the 
report  of  the  manager  of  the  great  turquoise  mines 
of  Abu  Ishak.  He  had  brought  him  several  magnifi 
cent  specimens  of  that  superb  gem,  there  called 
firuza, 


100  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

"  The  mountains  are  full  of  minerals,"  said  Omar. 
"  Lead  and  copper,  antimony  and  iron,  marble  and 
soapstone ;  a  wise  manager  would  fill  the  Sultan's 
treasury  without  overtaxing  the  merchants  of  the 
city." 

"  Hasan  ben  Sabah  last  night  hinted  that  lack  of 
management  kept  low  the  tide  of  receipts,"  con 
tinued  the  Sultan.  "  He  said  if  he  were  Treasurer 
of  the  Kingdom  he  would  bring  great  returns  from 
so  rich  a  province." 

"O  illustrious  Commander  of  the  Faithful,"  said 
the  Wazir,  "  why  not  commission  the  able  Hasan 
to  make  out  the  budget  as  he  would  if  he  were 
Treasurer  of  the  Realm  ?  Give  him  six  weeks  to  do 
it  in." 

"  A  capital  suggestion  !  If  he  succeeds  in  accom 
plishing  his  task  we  will  reward  him ;  if  his  conceit 
cause  him  to  fail,  no  harm  will  have  been  done.  He 
is  a  man  of  energy  and  ability.  Surely  our  visit  to 
our  beautiful  city  of  Nishapur  has  been  prolific  of 
great  profit.  Not  soon  again  shall  I  have  such 
another  day  of  hunting  as  that  in  the  Park !  Did 
you  see  the  fortunate  stroke  I  made  with  the  boar- 
spear  ? " 

And  without  either  pausing  to  hear  the  Wazlr's 
answer  or  remembering  that  he  had  been  called 
away  from  the  boar-hunt,  he  went  on  recalling  the 
enthusiasm  of  that  exciting  moment  when  the  boar, 


THREE   FRIENDS  AT  PLAY.  IOI 

having  been  maddened  by  his  wounds,  suddenly 
turned  and  charged  the  Sultin. 

"  I  can  see  him  now,"  said  Malikshah.  "  How 
fierce  and  fiery-blood-shot  were  his  wicked  eyes ! 
His  jaws  were  dripping  with  bloody  foam.  On  he 
came !  Ibrahim  Niyal  shouted  to  me,  but  I  was  on 
my  guard.  I  set  my  spear,  and  he  rushed  against  it 
with  such  violence  that  it  went  through  his  heart 
and  broke  short  off !  If  I  could  only  have  kept  his 
massive  head.  No  such  boar  has  been  seen  on  the 
mountain-side  for  many  long  years,  they  all  told  me, 
and  I  can  well  believe  it !  But  let  us  return  for  the 
midday  refection." 

They  went  back  to  the  pavilion  and  found  that 
everything  had  been  ordered,  and  a  delicious  repast 
of  sweets  and  fruits  was  quickly  brought  for  their 
delectation.  Then  after  they  had  chased  away  the 
eager  appetite  their  walk  had  given  them,  a  new  en 
tertainment  in  the  performances  of  an  Indian  juggler 
was  given.  Wonderful  were  the  tricks  which  he 
performed  with  no  apparent  aid,  either  from  disguise 
or  assistant.  But  for  Omar,  the  rose-lover,  what 
could  have  been  more  delightful  and  surprising  than 
to  see  a  pot  of  gorgeous,  crimson  roses,  hundreds  on 
a  single  little  tree,  apparently  materialize  out  of  thin 
air  before  his  eyes  ?  One  moment  and  there  was  the 
empty,  cold,  and  lifeless  earth  in  the  vessel ;  the  next 
came  the  sprouting  green  of  the  first  rose-leaf ;  then 


102  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

each  time  that  the  juggler  lifted  the  silken  turban 
that  he  used  as  a  veil,  the  rose-tree  was  nearer  its 
quickly  attained  perfection.  When  it  was  fully 
grown  he  brought  it  to  his  amazed  spectators  and 
let  them  pick  the  fragrant  blooms. 

He  did  another  thing  scarcely  less  marvellous. 
He  took  out  a  long,  slender  silken  cord,  and  handed 
it  to  the  Waztr  to  examine.  The  Sultan  also  wanted 
to  handle  it ;  he  remarked  that  it  would  make  an 
excellent  kemend  or  lassoo,  wherewith  to  take  the 
gur-kher  or  wild  ass  of  the  mountain. 

Then  the  juggler  took  the  cord,  and  with  a  strange 
whirling  motion  sent  it  straight  up  into  the  air.  It 
hung  there  as  if  fastened  to  some  nail  or  beam  ;  but 
where  he  stood  was  under  the  open  sky  ;  no  nail  or 
beam,  or  even  the  branch  of  a  tree,  supported  that 
mysterious  cord.  He  called  a  small  boy  who  looked 
like  a  Chinese,  and  muttering  some  gibberish  pointed 
to  the  top  of  the  cord,  which  seemed  to  be  out  of 
sight.  The  boy  began  to  climb  the  rope,  hand  over 
hand,  whirling  slightly,  but  not  kicking  his  legs.  In 
a  moment  or  two  he  vanished  from  sight.  Then  the 
juggler  called  or  pretended  to  call  to  him:  "Come 
down,  come  down."  But  when  no  answer  responded, 
taking  a  keen  sword  in  his  mouth,  he,  too,  climbed  up 
the  cord  and  disappeared.  A  few  moments  later  an 
amputated  leg  fell  to  the  ground  ;  then  came  another, 
followed  by  an  arm  ;  and  when  the  limbs  had  all  been 


THREE  FRIENDS  AT  PLAY.  1 03 

flung  down  from  the  invisible  country,  or  plateau, 
or  place  in  the  cloudless  blue,  down  came  the  head 
less  trunk,  with  the  sword  thrust  through  its  heart. 
Finally  the  impassive  Indian  himself  came  down  the 
rope,  bringing  the  boy's  head  in  one  hand. 

It  was  a  terrible  spectacle  even  to  men  like 
Malikshah,  used  to  bloodshed.  His  impulse  was  to 
summon  a  farrash  and  have  the  apparent  murderer 
haled  to  justice.  But  before  he  had  a  chance  to 
speak,  the  juggler  had  thrown  his  silken  veil  over 
the  ground  where  the  remains  lay  scattered,  and 
when  he  pulled  it  off  again,  there  lay  the  boy  whole 
as  before,  who  leaped  to  his  feet,  with  a  grin  on  his 
ugly  phiz,  and  bowed  low  before  his  illustrious 
patrons. 

Omar  ordered  a  bowl  of  wine  to  be  taken  to  the 
waiting  Indian,  who,  when  he  had  finished  his  display, 
knelt  and  kissed  the  ground  before  them.  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  tossed  him  a  purse  full  of  gold,  and  again  he 
bowed  to  the  ground.  Then,  when  he  had  gone,  the 
talk  became  serious  again.  The  Wazir  had  in  mind 
a  plan  to  revise  the  system  of  education  in  the  schools 
and  universities,  and  the  occasion  now  offered  to  talk 
it  over  with  the  Sultan.  He  knew  that  in  Omar  he 
should  find  a  powerful  ally,  and  he  was  not  disap 
pointed.  Omar  spoke  with  eloquence  regarding  the 
stupid  conventional  system  in  vogue.  He  gave  many 
amusing  instances  of  the  ignorance  and  lack  of 


104  OMAR    THE    TENTAfAKER. 

common  sense  shown  by  the  teachers,  and,  at  the 
Sultan's  request,  he  developed  at  some  length  the 
wider  and  more  liberal  curriculum  that  he  wanted  to 
see  adopted. 

"  Students  come  here  to  Nishapur,"  said  Omar, 
"  hungry  for  knowledge.  They  are  fed  on  dry  husks. 
The  professors,  who  are  under  no  supervision,  sit  on 
their  heels,  leaning  lazily  back  against  a  pillar,  and 
talk  to  them  about  the  traditions.  They  fill  their 
minds  with  dull  and  stupid  genealogies  ;  they  inter 
pret  the  poems  of  Muhammad  in  their  own  idiotic 
fashion,  contrary  to  all  common  sense,  and,  what  is 
worse,  they  attack  others  who  try  to  give  the  meat 
of  the  word,  instead  of  the  indigestible  shells." 

"  What  would  you  do  about  it  ?  "  asked  the  Wazfr, 
anxious  to  draw  Omar  out,  and  noticing  with  delight 
that  the  Sultan  was  becoming  deeply  interested. 

"  I  would  put  all  the  universities  and  academies 
under  State  control,"  said  Omar.  "  I  would  weed  out 
the  dull,  incompetent,  and  bigoted  teachers  ;  I  would 
put  in  their  places  young  men  specially  trained  in 
the  sciences ;  I  would  have  courses  given  in  mathe 
matics  and  astronomy,  as  well  as  in  the  interpretation 
of  the  Surahs  ;  I  would  have  the  art  of  poetry  taught 
V  by  zealous  and  capable  rhetoricians.  The  wide  realm 
of  history  should  be  opened  to  survey.  I  would 
not  banish  religion,  but  instead  of  unprofitable 
discussions  of  unimportant  details,  wasting  pre- 


THREE   FRIENDS  AT  PLAY.  10$ 

cious  energies,  as  now,  I  would  substitute  liberal 
studies." 

Omar's  fine  face  glowed  with  enthusiasm,  and  his 
eloquent  tongue  poured  forth  convincing  arguments. 

Nizamu'1-Mulk  felt  very  much  as  Omar  did,  and 
he,  too,  was  anxious  to  make  an  entire  change  in  the 
system. 

The  result  of  the  talk  was  that  the  Sultan  agreed 
to  everything,  and  the  Waztr,  aided  by  Omar,  drew 
up  a  scheme  for  the  revision  of  the  universities.  In 
this  respect  the  afternoon  at  the  bustan  bore  most 
important  fruit.  Not  only  at  Nishapur  was  the  new 
impulse  felt  from  that  time  forward,  but  new  univer 
sities  were  founded  in  various  parts  of  the  Sultanate. 
Particularly  famous  became  the  one  established  at 
Bagdad  by  Nizamu'1-Mulk.  It  was  called  after  the 
Wazir,  and  lasted  for  several  hundred  years ;  though, 
in  the  course  of  time,  the  instruction  which  it 
furnished  became  too  conventional  again. 

In  this  lofty  discussion,  in  which  the  Sultan  bore 
his  part,  the  afternoon  wore  away ;  the  sun  was  now 
declining  ;  the  shadows  of  the  sycamores  began  to 
stretch  longer  and  longer  across  the  river  banks,  and 
the  nightingales  were  tuning  up  their  evening  song 
in  the  clumps  of  the  garden.  Ever  more  and  more 
beautiful  grew  the  afternoon  light,  and  the  far-off 
mountains  turned  rose  color,  and  glowed  like  heaps 
of  gems.  The  river,  now  freed  from  the  caresses  of 


106  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

the  wind,  grew  glassy,  and  reflected  every  tree  and 
bush  and  reed,  its  surface  only  now  and  then  broken 
for  an  instant  by  the  dipping  wing  of  a  swallow,  or 
the  fall  of  some  insect,  or  the  answering  leap  of  a 
fish.  It  was  pleasant  lingering  as  the  evening  dewy 
coolness  descended,  and,  as  they  rode  slowly  back  to 
the  city,  they  talked  cheerfully  of  various  things,  the 
pleasure  of  their  day's  outing,  the  marvel  of  the 
juggler's  performance,  which  savored  of  the  super 
natural,  so  that  the  suspicious  element  in  Malflcshah's 
spirit  still  impelled  him  to  send  and  have  the  man 
arrested.  Not  even  Omar  could  find  an  explanation 
for  the  miracle.  The  science  of  hypnotism  had  not 
then  been  invented,  although  the  thing  itself,  under 
various  disguises,  had  been  in  the  world  for  thousands 
of  years.  They  had  still  more  to  say  regarding 
Hasan's  appointment  and  the  possibilities  that  he 
might  evoke  from  his  new  position,  and  ever  and 
again  they  recurred  to  the  new  plans  for  education. 

As  they  reached  the  gate  the  darkness  fell ;  but  in 
the  western  sky,  suddenly  emerging  from  behind  a 
drifting  cloud  that  had  faded  from  crimson  to  gray, 
flashed  the  radiant  sickle  of  the  new  moon,  seem 
ing  to  reap  the  sky  and  gather  in  the  harvest  of 
light. 

"Give  us  one  more  ruba'l,  O  Prince  of  Impro- 
visers,"  cried  the  Sultan,  and  Omar,  thinking  regret 
fully  and  longingly  of  the  Grecian  maiden,  spoke, 


THREE  FRIENDS  AT  PLAY.  IO? 

quietly,  the  exquisite  quatrain  that  plays  so  charm 
ingly  on  the  three  meanings  of  mdh : 

"Since  on  thy  face  the  morrow  may  not  shine 
Make  jocund  now  this  passionate  heart  of  thine  ! 

The  Moon  shall  seek  us  long  when  we  are  gone,  — 
Then  in  this  moonlight,  O  my  Moon,  drink  wine" 

"  Ever-ready ! "  cried  the  Wazir,  with  pride  in  his 
friend's  accomplishment,  "  we  will  accompany  you 
to  your  door  and  leave  you  there." 

"  My  aged  mother  would  delight  to  have  you  rest 
once  more  under  our  humble  roof,"  said  Omar,  look 
ing  at  the  Sultan.  "  I  make  no  doubt  that  she  has, 
against  our  return,  a  kid  stewed  in  its  mother's 
milk." 

And  even  as  he  said  these  words  they  came  in 
sight  of  Omar's  dwelling,  and  there,  looking  down 
the  street  with  her  aged  eyes,  stood  Ziba-khanum 
watching  for  her  son's  home-coming ;  and  when  the 
three  horses  stopped  she  raised  her  voice  and  begged 
them  to  come  in,  saying,  in  her  pleasant,  friendly 
tone : 

"  Hosh  dmddid,  safd  dwurdld  ! —  You  are  wel 
come,  you  have  brought  joy  with  you  ! "  And  she 
added  her  entreaties  to  Omar's  that  they  should 
come  in  once  more. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE    KEEN    EYE    AND   THE    HUNGRY    PURSE. 

THE  Sultan  imagined  that  he  had  been  successful 
in  eluding  observation  as  he  slipped  out  through  a 
secret  gate  in  the  back  of  the  Arg,  known  only  to 
his  nephew,  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  and  one  or  two  trusted 
officers.  But  he  did  not  elude  the  observation  of 
Hasan  ben  Sabah.  Hasan  managed  to  discover,  also, 
who  was  the  single  servant  who  followed  the  two 
rulers  as  they  rode  to  Omar's  house.  He,  himself, 
had  no  intention  of  following,  or  of  sending  a  spy  to 
bring  him  an  account  of  what  should  take  place. 
But  he  resolved  to  exert  the  influence  of  his  compel 
ling  eye,  possibly  strengthened  by  the  magic  of  gold, 
to  induce  the  zin-dal  to  tell  what  he  saw,  where  the 
Sultan  went,  and  what  he  did.  Hasan  had  great 
power  with  his  deep-set  eyes.  Few  men  could  with 
stand  the  fire  of  their  direct  gaze ;  bent  on  any  one 
in  anger  or  scorn  it  seemed  to  sear  the  very  soul. 
This  went  far  to  explain  the  marvellous  influence 
that  he  wielded  over  his  followers.  Once  under  its 
hypnotizing  control,  a  man  was  never  knewn  to  dis- 

108 


THE  KEEN  EYE  AND   THE  HUNGRY  PURSE.     1 09 

obey  his  commands,  even  though  they  sent  him  to 
certain  death. 

Hitherto  in  his  experience  of  short-lived  eminence 
he  had  failed  in  tact,  or  had  showed  his  hand  too 
soon.  His  ambition  was  insatiable  and  could  not 
wait  to  be  fed.  But  through  years  of  vicissitude,  he 
had  learned  a  measure  of  wisdom.  He  had  an  able 
assistant  in  his  silent,  wise,  and  crafty  son.  He  now 
knew  how  to  keep  his  peace,  to  bide  his  time,  to 
seize  the  occasion.  Or  at  least,  so  he  confidently 
told  himself.  He  thought  that  he  could  read  Malik- 
shah  like  a  scroll ;  he  could  easily  insinuate  doubts 
regarding  Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  undermine  his  influ 
ence,  and,  in  time,  bring  about  his  downfall  and 
secure  his  place. 

When  Mah'kshah  the  next  day  summoned  him  to 
a  conference  and  confided  to  him  that  he  was  not 
satisfied  with  the  revenues  accruing  from  the  prov 
ince  of  Khurasan,  and  especially  from  the  city  and 
plain  of  Nishapur,  "Hasan  ben  Sabah  fell  in  with  this 
line  of  reasoning.  He  said  : 

"  If  the  Commander  of  the  Faithful  will  bear  with 
me  I  will  tell  him  that  only  yesterday,  while  he  was 
absent  from  the  palace,  I,  endeavoring  to  become 
wonted  to  my  duties,  saw  the  under-secretary  of  the 
bureau  of  mines  secrete  in  the  fold  of  his  jubba  an 
emerald."  .  .  . 

The  Sultan,  though  generally  good-natured,  was 


I  10  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

quick  tempered,  and  could  not  endure  any  mal 
feasance.  Without  waiting  to  hear  further  he 
exclaimed : 

"  Have  that  hawk  of  a  clerk  brought  here  instantly. 
Allah  akbar  !  God  is  great !  What  right  has  he  to  be 
thieving  my  jewels  ? " 

A  servant  hastened  out  and  brought  in  the  trem 
bling  culprit. 

"  Tell  me,  son  of  a  burning  father,  what  right  thou 
hast  to  secrete  my  turquoises  and  emeralds  ?  Is  it 
that  I  employ  thee  to  rob  me  ?  No  excuses.  Call 
the  nazir,  have  him  bring  the  bastinado  block  and 
the  rods.  Have  four  farrash-ha  instantly." 

The  trembling  wretch,  who  had  possibly  stolen 
more  than  one  of  the  Sultan's  gems,  turned  pale  and 
tried  to  open  his  mouth  and  speak.  In  an  incredibly 
short  time  the  naztr  or  inspector  had  come,  followed 
by  four  farrash  ha,  who  brought  with  them  the  falak 
or  block  into  which  the  clerk's  legs  were  thrust. 
With  nooses  fastened  to  the  man  two  of  the  farrash- 
ha  held  him  firmly,  and  the  others  began  to  raise 
their  willow  rods  to  inflict  the  terrible  punishment. 
Then  the  poor  fellow  found  a  voice  and  in  a  pitable 
tone,  full  of  tears,  he  screamed  : 

"  By  the  grave  of  thy  father,  pardon,  pardon  !  I 
have  sinned,  I  and  my  father  and  my  mother  before 
me.  I  know  not  what  I  have  done,  but  I  promise 
never  to  do  it  again." 


THE  KEEN  EYE  AND   THE  HUNGRY  PURSE.     1 1 1 

The  Sultan  had  a  quick  sense  of  humor  and  this 
desperate  confusion  of  thought  pacified  him. 

"Wa-Isti'd,  step  back,"  he  said  to  the  farrash-ha, 
who  were  waiting  only  for  the  signal  to  begin  the 
flailing  of  the  clerk's  soles. 

"  This  time  I  will  pardon  thee,  though  I  intended 
thou  shouldst  eat  a  hundred  sticks.  But  if  I  hear 
again  that  thou  hast  stolen,  I  will  send  thee  to  the 
city  of  non-existence.  Let  him  up." 

The  attendants  unfastened  their  nooses,  removed 
his  feet  from  the  block,  and  lifted  the  young  man  to 
his  feet.  He  was  as  white  as  spun  flax,  but  in  a 
trembling  voice  he  kissed  the  ground  at  the  Sultan's 
feet.  "  Pure  art  thou,  O  God,  and  worthy  of  praise, 
and  blessed  is  thy  name,  and  exalted  thy  glory,"  he 
exclaimed,  quoting  from  the  Quran. 

"Thou  hast  had  a  narrow  escape,"  said  the  Sultan. 

"  My  beard  is  in  thy  hands,"  replied  the  other. 

Here  the  Sultan  himself  could  hardly  refrain  from 
laughing,  because  the  man,  though  he  used  the  tradi 
tional  phrase,  had  no  sign  of  a  beard. 

The  man  was  then  dismissed,  and  the  Sultan, 
restored  to  good  humor,  proceeded  to  the  business 
which  had  been  so  incontinently  interrupted.  Hasan 
ben  Sabah  could  scarcely  conceal  his  impatience 
at  such  weakness  on  Malikshah's  part.  He  would 
havejiad  the  farrash  end  the  whole  matter  by  tight 
ening  a  shawl  or  a  rope  around  the  young  man's 


112  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

neck.  Clerks  were  easy  to  supply ;  the  loss  of  one, 
especially  of  a  dishonest  one,  would  not  be  felt. 
However  he  was  not  sorry  to  discover  a  new  weak 
ness  in  the  Sultan.  Every  weakness  would  be  to 
him  additional  strength. 

"I  have  decided,"  said  Malikshah,  "to  entrust  to 
you  the  drawing  up  of  a  scheme  for  increasing  the 
revenues  of  this  our  province  of  Khurasan.  You 
have  been  pleased  to  criticise  the  apparent  feeble 
ness  of  the  golden  stream  that  flows  from  this  rich 
city  into  our  treasury.  If,  through  malfeasance,  any 
part  is  diverted  from  me,  'tis  for  you  to  stop  the 
leak.  If  you  can,  without  too  great  pressure,  so  as 
not  to  cause  too  great  discontent,  increase  its  annual 
amount,  make  it  plain  in  your  report,  and  if  it  seem 
practicable,  not  only  shall  it  be  tried  but  you  shall 
have  the  honor  of  putting  it  into  execution.  Every 
faculty  shall  be  given  into  your  hands  for  making 
investigations.  Will  six  weeks  be  sufficient  for  your 
purposes?  You  will  have  to  visit  the  mines  in  the 
mountains  ;  you  will  have  to  determine  carefully  how 
much  increase  the  merchants  in  the  city  will  endure ; 
you  will  have  to  learn  the  state  of  the  various  indus 
tries  in  the  city  and  in  the  whole  province.  Six 
weeks,  methinks,  is  scarcely  sufficient  time  to  do  all 
this  and  make  out  the  budget." 

"  In  the  name  of  God  the  merciful,  the  compas 
sionate  !  verily  thou  dost  honor  thy  humble  servant. 


THE  KEEN  EYE  AND   THE  HUNGRY  PURSE.     I  13 

The  fate  of  every  man  God  has  bound  about  his 
neck.  O  exalted  one !  I  will  use  all  diligence  to 
fulfil  thy  commands.  But  I  feel  so  confident  that  I 
can  master  the  situation  that  all  I  ask  is  four  weeks  ; 
from  moon  till  moon  will  be  sufficient  time.  Indeed 
I  have  already  made  a  beginning  —  " 

And  Hasan  ben  Sabah  began  to  detail  to  the 
amazed  Sultan  the  receipts  from  the  turquoise  mines 
of  Nishapur  during  the  year  preceding  and  showed 
conclusively  what  they  should  have  been.  He  could 
not  refrain  from  a  slightly  ill-natured  remark  reflect 
ing  on  the  Wazir,  and  hinting  that  if  he  had  been 
in  control  no  such  niggardly  outcome  should  have 
resulted  from  mines  so  rich  in  gems. 

So  the  affair  was  arranged.  The  proper  farmin  or 
order  was  issued  and  Hasan  was  made  nominal  Lord- 
Treasurer  of  the  Province.  With  characteristic  zeal 
he  set  about  his  work.  He  went  out  every  day  and 
assiduously  visited  the  bazars  and  the  various  manu-  (. 
factures  of  the  city.  He  found  how  many  pots  each 
potter  made  and  how  large  were  his  profits.  He 
discovered  who  owned  the  mulberry  groves  and  how 
many  silk  spinners  were  at  work  and  how  much  the 
cost  and  profit  on  that  beautiful  industry  were.  He 
got  a  list  of  all  the  taverns  and  caravansaries  and  the 
numbers  of  their  visitors.  With  incredible  celerity  ' 
he  gathered  a  thousand  details  of  the  industries  of  the 
city  and  the  province,  of  the  prosperous  villages  along 


I  14  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

the  plain  and  of  the  caravans  that  came  in  daily  across 
the  great  trade-ways  leading  to  India  and  the  West. 

Nizamu'1-Mulk  with  some  little  suspicion  followed 
his  movements.  He  held  under  seeming  inattention 
the  key  to  every  department  of  power.  His  eyes 
were  in  every  place;  he  had  perfectly  trusty  spies 
who  brought  him  ample  reports  of  all  that  was  going 
on.  He  foresaw  that  there  would  not  be  room  for 
both  him  and  Hasan  at  Malikshah's  Court,  but  he 
^  was  in  no  hurry  to  precipitate  any  open  rivalry  or 
out  and  out  enmity.  But  he  meant  to  have  the 
whip-hand  over  his  old  schoolmate,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  a  discovery  which  he  made  gave  him  a 
feeling  of  security.  He  no  longer  had  any  appre 
hension  that  Hasan  by  his  ability  or  by  his  skill  in 
intrigue  could  permanently  injure  him.  He  resolved 
to  let  the  skein  tangle  itself  to  the  last  knot  before 
he  would  interfere. 

The  secret  was  that  Hasan  was  taking  bribes 
from  many  of  the  merchants  and  wealthier  arti 
sans.  It  was  no  coarse  bribe-taking,  but  a  delicate 
acceptance  of  more  or  less  valuable  considera 
tions.  The  offer  of  a  bag  of  gold  outright  was 
indeed  openly  rejected  with  every  appearance  of 
indignation  :  but  the  quiet  transfer  of  a  jewel  or  of  a 
little  piece  of  land  accompanied  by  an  apparent  deed 
of  purchase  made  it  easy  for  the  transaction  to  seem 
legitimate :  Hasan  ben  Sabah  each  time  remained 


THE  KEEN  EYE  AND  THE  HUNGRY  PURSE.     I  I  5 

the  gainer  and  each  time  let  the  imposition  of  the 
tax  fall  less  heavily  on  the  victim. 

Thus  Yusuf  al  Zar-gar,  the  great  gold-beater  who 
performed  such  marvels  with  his  hammer  and  his 
graver,  took  Hasan  ben  Sabah  over  his  establish 
ment  supposing  that  Hasan  was  a  prospective 
purchaser,  and  with  great  good  will  showed  him 
the  stores  of  exquisitely  engraved  plate  that  he 
had  made  for  the  trade  with  Damascus.  Hasan 
took  his  breath  away  when  he  told  him  that  he 
would  be  obliged  to  double  his  taxes,  but  he  re 
duced  them  materially  on  Yusuf  s  promise  to  dupli 
cate  a  certain  cup  set  with  rubies  and  diamonds 
in  alternation  making  an  elaborate  sentence  from 
the  Quran.  A  famous  horse-dealer  sent  him  a 
noble  Arabian  steed  of  purest  breed,  and  Hasan  in 
consequence  turned  the  screw  only  once  and  a  half 
instead  of  twice.  So  it  was  with  hundreds  of  the 
taxpayers  of  the  city.  They  knew  that  it  was  their 
misfortune  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  Treasury 
and  that  they  must  diminish  their  profits  by  a  forced 
levy ;  they  were  ready  to  keep  on  the  good  side  of 
so  reasonable  a  man  as  the  new  Lord-Treasurer  by 
flattering  his  vanity  or  making  his  life  easier.  Bribe- 
taking  was  so  common  that  they  expected  nothing 
else,  and  Hasan's  indignant  repudiation  of  the  open 
offer  made  his  gracious  acceptance~of  a  more  ele 
gantly  directed  gift  seem  like  a  favor. 


Il6  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

One  morning  he  came  to  the  establishment  of  a 
car  pet -weaver. 

"  Ala  ya  ayyuha  !  "  he  said,  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  proprietor,  who  came  forward  bowing  humbly, 
evidently  thinking  that  the  great  lord  who  had 
stopped  at  his  door  was  some  patron. 

"  You  are  Adam  Abdullah,  the  rug-maker  ? " 

44  For  so  my  father  —  Allah  rest  his  soul  —  named 
me." 

"  You  have  a  large  and  flourishing  trade  ? " 

"Allah  has  been  kind  to  me." 

44  Can  you  show  me  your  assortment  ? " 

44  Ba-chashm  !  Willingly  !  If  your  honor  will  do 
me  the  grace  to  come  under  my  unworthy  roof ! " 

Hasan  accepted  the  invitation  and,  while  pretending 
to  ask  questions  for  personal  information,  and  giving 
the  dealer  hopes  that  he  would  indulge  in  a  handsome 
order,  not  only  made  a  mental  inventory  of  the  rug- 
maker's  establishment,  but  learned  from  him  enough 
to  justify  him  in  extorting  a  large  increase  in  the 
yearly  tax. 

Hasan  had  ordered  laid  aside  for  him  a  magnifi 
cent  prayer-rug,  woven  of  the  softest  silk  and  with 
gold  fringes,  the  design  graceful  and  harmonious, 
soft  to  the  touch  and  almost  imperishable.  He  went 
through  the  usual  comedy  of  purchase,  gradually 
beating  the  dealer  down  from  the  first  exaggerated 
price  until  at  last  it  approached  somewhat  nearly  to 


THE  KEEN  EYE  AND   THE  HUNGRY  PURSE.     I  I/ 

the  value  of  the  article.  Thereby  he  gauged  pretty 
accurately  the  craftiness  of  Adam  Abdullah.  Then 
only  did  he  show  the  poor  man  his  hand.  When  the 
rug-maker  learned  that  it  was  the  newly  appointed 
nazir-i-mallyya,  he  fell  on  his  knees  before  him  and 
kissed  the  hem  of  his  coat,  protesting : 

"  By  the  soul  of  my  forefathers !  Be  indulgent, 
O  most  exalted !  Even  now  the  taxes  are  more 
than  I  can  pay.  I  have  had  to  sacrifice  my  father's 
little  patrimony  and  the  savings  that  I  had  hoped  to 
leave  to  my  only  son.  O  increase  not  thy  demands  ! 
Be  easy  and  I  will  give  thee  a  receipted  bill  for  the 
prayer-rug.  It  is  thine  !  And  it  cost  me  a  year's 
profits ! " 

Hasan  pretended  that  even  such  a  piece  of  munifi 
cence  would  not  affect  his  duty  to  his  august  master. 
But  nevertheless  he  gave  Adam  Abdullah  the  address 
to  which  it  might  be  sent,  and  eased  his  mind  a  little 
by  telling  him  he  would  take  his  case  under  advise 
ment.  There  would  certainly  be  some  increase,  but 
not  enough  to  make  him  lose  an  hour's  blessed  sleep. 

Hasan  was  too  wise  to  store  in  Nishapur  the  pre 
cious  things  that  flowed  into  his  possession  ;  he  had 
them  sent  to  a  certain  address,  and  when  a  sufficiently 
large  package  of  carpets  and  furs  and  brazen  dishes, 
and  the  exquisite  filigree  work  of  the  silversmiths, 
and  costly  pieces  of  pottery,  and  no  small  store  of 
jewels  had  been  collected,  he  sent  them  all  to  his 


Il8  OMAK    THE    TENTMAKER. 

wise  and  firm  friend  Abulfasl,  of  Isfahan,  with  whom 
he  knew  they  would  be  safe.  This  was  managed 
so  dexterously  that  Nizamu'1-Mulk  failed  to  trace 
them. 

But  to  all  appearance  Hasan  ben  Sabah  was  a  most 
industrious  and  faithful  servant  to  the  Sultan.  He 
was  at  his  work  early  and  late.  He  almost  invari 
ably  refused  all  invitations  to  join  in  the  pleasures  of 
the  Court.  He  could  not  be  pursuaded  to  go  hunt 
ing.  He  declared  that  he  had  more  important  game 
to  chase  than  wild  asses.  Malikshah,  who  occasion 
ally  invited  him  to  drink  the  tea  of  China  with  him, 
was  considerate  enough  not  to  ask  him  to  go  to 
Omar's  pavilion,  though  a  word  would  have  been  an 
order.  Nor  did  he  seem  to  care  to  mingle  with  his 
old  schoolmates,  in  their  pleasant  excursions,  or  in 
their  hours  of  friendly  talk  either  in  Omar's  garden 
or  on  the  mountain,  where,  by  the  Sultan's  orders, 
the  new  observatory  was  fast  becoming  a  reality. 
He  always  had  an  excuse  ready,  and  he  told  them 
frankly  that  with  him  so  much  of  life  had  passed 
fruitlessly,  he  was  anxious,  now  that  he  had  a  chance, 
to  make  the  most  of  it ;  moreover,  he  felt  that  he 
should  be  the  death's-head  at  the  feast ;  the  cast  of 
his  mind  had  become  gloomy,  and  laughter  to  him 
was  like  the  crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot. 

It  was  the  truth  ;  Hasan  ben  Sabah  was  a  fanatic. 
Deep  down  in  his  heart  were  germinating  the  seeds 


THE  KEEN  EYE  AND   THE  HUNGRY  PURSE.     I  19 

of  what  may  have  been  madness,  and  was  surely 
black  ambition.  Could  he  himself  have  told  what 
the  next  months  and  years  would  bring  him  to  ? 
Could  he  himself  realize  in  any  degree  the  trend  of 
the  dark  current  that  was  even  now  beginning  to 
seize  him  in  its  grasp,  and  hurry  him  onward  like  a 
flood  ?  Could  he  have  had  thus  early  any  definite 
plan  to  displace  his  benefactor  and  friend,  if  possible, 
and,  perhaps,  having  got  the  reins  of  power  into  his 
hand,  to  place  himself  on  the  throne  of  the  Seljuk 
Sultans  ?  Was  even  that  a  clearly  rounded  scheme  ? 


CHAPTER  XII. 

POET    AND    MAIDEN. 

THE  next  time  that  Omar  went  to  the  palace  he 
wore  a  single  yellow  rose.  He  had  little  expectation 
that  it  would  be  noticed  or  bring  a  response.  He 
knew  that  he  was  running  no  small  risk  in  entering 
into  an  intrigue  with  any  woman  of  the  Sultan's 
household,  even  though  it  were  not  one  of  the  Sul 
tan's  wives.  But  the  fact  that  Agap£  had  appeared 
at  the  pavilion,  before  the  SultAn  and  Nizdmu'1-Mulk, 
and  had  caused  no  remark,  emboldened  him,  and  he 
resolved  to  put  his  happiness  or  fortune  in  the 
Greek  girl's  hands.  He  at  least  would  do  his  part. 

That  afternoon  the  Sultdn  gave  a  great  feast  to 
which  the  notabilities  of  the  city  were  invited.  It 
was  a  long  and  tedious  affair  ;  Omar  was  not  sorry 
to  be  present,  but  being  a  sensible  man,  he  cared 
far  more  for  the  small  and  choice  supper,  where  con 
versation  might  be  general  or  mutual,  where  there 
was  sufficient  familiarity  of  acquaintance  for  the  jest 
or  the  poem  to  be  appreciated  by  all.  He  felt  lost 
and  insignificant  among  so  many,  —  men  bearing 


POET  AND   MAIDEN  121 

long  titles,  and  proud  of  the  insignia  of  office. 
But  before  the  feast  was  over  a  hadi'm  or  waiter 
passing  innocently  by  managed  to  convey  him  a  little 
scroll.  It  made  his  heart  throb,  and  he  found  means 
to  read  it  while  all  the  other  guests  were  watching 
the  antics  of  a  juggler,  who  was  enlivening  the  space 
of  waiting  between  courses  by  performing  wonderful 
tricks  with  balls  and  knives. 

It  was  very  short.  It  was,  as  before,  written  in 
Greek,  and  asked  him  to  be  at  the  pavilion  the  fol 
lowing  afternoon.  "  Do  not  fear  for  me,"  it  said,  "  I 
shall  find  the  means  to  come." 

He  sat  there  as  if  in  a  dream.  The  attendants 
passed  back  and  forth,  the  musicians  played,  the 
dancers  danced,  a  bear-tamer  exhibited  some  wonder 
fully  trained  animals,  but  Omar  sat  thinking  only 
what  might  happen  on  the  morrow.  What  he  would 
have  done  had  the  Sultan  suddenly  called  on  him  for 
one  of  his  rubaiyat  would  be  hard  to  say.  He  would 
probably  have  been  covered  with  confusion,  and 
obliged  to  ask  indulgence.  He  managed  to  make 
his  escape  early  and  went  home,  but  not  to  study  or 
write.  He  remembered  how  the  beautiful  Greek 
girl  praised  his  poems,  and  he  resolved  to  have 
several  ready  for  her  in  case  —  but  how  absurd  it 
was  to  deem  it  possible  for  her  to  meet  him.  He 
almost  laughed  at  the  idea.  How  could  she  escape 
from  the  hundreds  of  watchful  eyes,  from  the  eunuchs 


122  OMAK    THE    TENTMAKEK. 

alert  to  detect  any  irregularity  ?  And  he  shuddered 
at  the  thought  that  she  might  be  caught  and  brought 
back.  He  had  heard  some  of  the  tragedies  that  had 
taken  place  behind  the  pardah,  or  veil  of  the  anderfln. 
But  then  he  knew  that  she  was  a  Greek,  and  some 
of  the  wiliness  of  the  crafty  Odysseus  was  undoubt 
edly  hers. 

The  night  was  splendid  ;  the  moon  rode  high  and 
sent  down  her  golden  beams,  making  the  city,  with 
its  domes  and  minarets  and  its  embattled  walls,  like  a 
vision  of  loveliness.  Omar  could  never  resist  the 
beauty  of  "the  heavenly  bowl,"  which,  adorned  with 
brilliant  jewels,  arched  above  his  head.  Only  the 
greater  stars  kept  the  moon  company  ;  he  knew  them 
all  as  no  one  else  among  the  thousands  of  inhabi 
tants  of  that  big  city  knew  them.  He  gazed  at  the 
twinkling  points  that  outlined  the  Great  Bear  —  the 
dubb-y  akbar  —  and  at  the  calm  radiance  of  nahid,  or 
Venus.  How  little  he  knew  of  all  that  mysterious 
population.  He  murmured  : 

"  The  stars  that  adorn  the  Heavens  for  a  measureless  sum  of 

Time, 
They  come  and  they  go,  and  again  they  come  with  Time; 

In  the  skirt  of  Heaven,  and  under  the  womb  of  the  earth, 
Are  creatures  that  while  Allah  lives  will  speak  and  grow 
dumb  with  Time." 

He  imagined  the  Milky  Way  —  the  tartqu'1-lab- 
bana  —  was  a  great  caravan  route  down  which 


POET  AND   MAIDEN.  123 

passed  the  souls  of  the  millions  of  hapless  sons  of     x 
men,  and  this  splendid  quatrain  came  following  close 
on  the  other : 

"  One  moment  in  Annihilation's  Waste, 
One  moment  of  the  Well  of  Life  to  taste  — 
The  Stars  are  setting,  and  the  Caravan 
Draws  to  the  Dawn  of  Nothing —  Oh,  make  haste  !  "  * 

He  wondered  how  far  the  astrologers,  of  whom  he 
so  often  made  sport,  were  right  in  calculating  the 
influences  of  the  planets  on  those  who  were  born 
under  them.  Was  he,  himself,  born  under  a  happy 
star?  He,  the  poet,  the  star-gazer,  had  now  only 
one  wish : 

"  Ay  !  woe  to  the  man  who  in  passion's  joy  has  no  part ! 
To  the  man  if  the  spell  cast  by  love  works  no  cheer  on  his 

heart ! 

Each  day  that  thou  spendest  on  earth  unwitting  of  love, 
Remember  how  wasteful  of  precious  moments  thou  art.'1'' 

A  deep  sense  of  his  insignificance  came  over  him ; 
yet  it  was  not  exactly  depression.  Those  same  stars 
had  seen  Kai  Khosru  on  his  throne  ;  they  had  looked 
down  on  the  great  ruins  of  the  Takht-i-Jamshid 
where  were  the  silent  figures  of  kings  hewn  out  of  the 
living  rock  ;  they  had  seen  all  the  generations  of  men 
—  all  the  blooming  maidens,  like  the  houris  of  para 
dise  —  perish,  and  go  back  into  the  dust.  The  very 

fE.  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


124  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

tulips  to  which  he  compared  the  face  of  his  love  — 
the  laid  rukh  —  were  made  up  of  the  dust  that  had 
once  been  tulip-faced  girls  : 

"  We  must  perish  in  the  path  of  love, 
We  must  perish  in  the  talons  of  Fate, 
Ay  /  sweet-faced  SdJtl,  sit  not  idU  ! 
Bring  me  water^for  dust  I  shall  be" 

One  after  another  the  pathetic  graceful  quatrains 
rose  into  his  mind,  all  tinged  with  the  melancholy  of 
the  lovely  night : 

"  Every  crimson  rose  and  tulip  that  beside  the  roadside  springs 
Tells  the  story  of  the  spilling  of  the  blood  of  mighty  kings; 
Every  lovely  violet  growing  from  the  bosom  of  the  earth, 
Is  the  beauty-mole  of  some  fair  maiden  that  the  poet  sings" 

And  as  if  in  answer  to  his  thoughts,  he  heard  the 
distant  voice  of  a  night  owl  echoing  his  plaint  of  the 
swiff  flight  of  time,  the  paltry  state  of  world-famous 
kings,  the  fleeting  nature  of  moles,  —  for  he  remem 
bered  with  a  touch  of  whimsical  amusement  how  the 
merry  maidens  of  Iran  in  order  to  win  favor  with 
the  men  —  for  with  the  Persians  the  mole  is  a 
crowning  touch  of  beauty  —  sometimes  create  arti 
ficial  moles  with  the  oxide  of  antimony,  or  with 
zarb-chub  and  charcoal.  Yes,  the  owl  was  a  fitting 
chorus  for  his  monologue ;  he  heard  it  and  lis 
tened  ;  a  dark  cloud  swallowed  up  the  moon ;  the 
night  air  grew  chilly ;  he  shivered,  and  went  to  his 
sleeping-room. 


POET  AND   MAIDEN.  125 

Never  did  morning  seem  longer  to  a  busy  scien 
tific  man  :  his  mathematical  problems  would  not  solve 
themselves ;  the  quatrains  that  he  had  composed  the 
night  before  seemed  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable  ;  his 
little  garden  failed  to  please  him  ;  even  the  sweet 
note  of  the  wood-pigeon  repeating  its  everlasting 
question  of  "  where  ?  where  ?  "  -  "  ku  ?  ku  ?  "  grew 
tiresome  and  monotonous. 

All  diseases  taken  late  in  life  are  apt  to  go  hard ; 
so  it  is  with  love.  The  young  man  may  —  he  not 
always  does  —  recover  easily  from  its  first  or  second 
attack  ;  but  the  man  of  middle  age  who  has  hitherto 
escaped  or  who  has  even  had  mild  and  harmless 
lesions  is  an  almost  hopeless  victim.  In  his  case  it 
is  apt  to  be  accompanied  by  delirium.  In  all  cases 
it  leads  to  more  or  less  permanent  blindness  :  no 
defects  in  the  object  adored  are  visible  ;  all  is  en 
veloped  in  a  glamour.  Work  becomes  an  impossi 
bility  :  reason  vanishes,  and  the  most  sensible  of  men 
have  been  known  to  do  and  say  the  most  imbecile 
things.  Prosaic  individuals  who  have  never  been 
moved  by  Poesy's  divine  voice  are  suddenly  seen  try 
ing  to  find  impossible  rhymes  ;  men  with  voices  like 
a  raven's,  plume  their  feathers  and  imagine  that  they 
are  singing,  and  that  all  that  listen  are  amazed  at  the 
beauty  of  their  song.  But  the  poet  ?  Omar  himself 
sang  that  love  had  taken  him  unaware,  that  he  was 
verily  distraught  for  love.  "  My  heart  is  in  such  a 


126  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

blaze  that  there  is  no  telling  which  is  heart  and  which 
is  blaze ! " 

The  Sultan,  with  his  nephew  Ibrahim  Niyal,  with 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  a  number  of  the  principal  per 
sonages  of  the  Court  and  town,  had  gone  to  see 
the  Nishapur  turquoise  mines.  Omar  heard  of  the 
projected  expedition  and  avoided  being  invited.  It 
required  considerable  skill,  for  it  was  known  that  he 
was  an  authority  regarding  gems,  his  little  book  en 
titled  "  Mizan-ul-hukm  ;  or,  The  Scales  of  Wisdom," 
which  was  a  treatise  dealing  with  the  problem  of 
testing  the  value  of  objects  set  with  precious  stones 
without  removing  the  jewels,  had  gained  him  no 
small  reputation,  and  he  was  constantly  called  on  to 
decide  vexed  questions  in  dispute  among  the  jewellers. 
Quite  alone,  he  therefore  proceeded  to  his  favorite 
resort,  all  the  time  pondering  the  probabilities  of 
Agapfi's  keeping  her  promise.  Of  course  he  was 
there  ridiculously  early  ;  the  sun  had  not  reached  the 
zenith  when  he  established  himself  on  the  divan,  and 
with  the  unusual  solace  of  a  little  of  that  famous  In 
dian  herb  called  bang,  gave  himself  up  to  the  strange 
day-dreams  that  it  engendered. 

Never  before  had  the  bustan  seemed  so  lovely  to 
him  ;  the  season  advancing  even  a  few  days  had 
developed  the  foliage  and  clothed  the  trees  and  vines 
with  richer  green.  The  soft  breeze  scattered  the 
petals  of  the  flowers.  This  almost  petulant  rudeness 


POET  AND   MAIDEN. 

of  the  zephyrs  moved  Omar  to  his  usual  mode  of 
expression  : 

"Lo,  the  skirt  of  the  rose  has  been  torn  by  the  breeze. 
And  the  bulbul  delights  in  the  beauty  he  sees, 

Oh,  sit  in  the  shade  of  the  rose,  for  the  -wind 
Has  scattered  the  rose-dust  of  thousands  like  these." 

And  when  a  moment  later  another  gust  swept  into 
his  arched  doorway  a  little  whirlpool  of  mingled 
blossoms,  like  an  impromptu  came  the  words  of  this 
melodious  ruba'l : 

"  Narcissus-blossoms  from  the  skies  are  raining  / 
Into  the  garden  blooms  richest  dyes  are  raining ! 

I  pour  the  red  wine  in  a  lily  cup 
As  violet  clouds  the  jasmin  I  prize  are  raining  /" 

Suddenly  a  shadow  fell  across  the  arched  doorway. 
He  had  no  need  to  look  up  ;  his  eyes  were  all  the 
time  fixed  with  expectation  on  the  picture  that  it 
framed,  —  the  river  flowing  softly-murmuring  by,  the 
rose-branches  swaying  in  the  soft  air,  the  occasional 
flight  of  a  bird  singing  as  it  flew.  But  — 

Now  the  one  thing  that  the  picture  lacked  was 
present.  The  miracle  that  he  had  longed  for,  had 
hoped  for,  and  yet  had  not  believed  possible,  was 
accomplished.  Paradise  had  its  Eve  at  last !  This 
Eve  was  dressed  in  the  Farsi  costume  and  of  course 
had  her  face  hidden  by  the  usual  veil.  But  Omar 
needed  no  interpreter  except  his  own  heart  to  tell 
him  who  the  slender,  graceful  maiden  was. 


128  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

She  came  in,  gliding  like  a  shadow. 

"  Poet  of  the  rose-twined  lyre ! "  she  exclaimed, 
"  I  have  escaped  from  the  jaws  of  the  lion !  I 
trembled  lest  you  should  not  have  read  my  note 
aright !  " 

Omar  rose  and  went  to  meet  the  maiden. 

44  The  moon  should  not  hide  her  face  behind  a 
cloud, "  he  replied.  "  Sweet  is  the  voice  of  the 
nightingale  and  we  care  not  whether  we  see  him  or 
not.  But  when  I  hear  thy  voice,  clearer  than  the 
song  of  a  brook,  then  my  heart  must  be  gratified. 
I  beg  thee,  lay  aside  thy  cumbering  veil.  Let  the 
sweet  moon  of  thy  face  shine  on  me." 

The  Greek  maiden  was  willing  enough  to  comply 
with  his  demand.  But  first  she  showed  the  native 
coquetry  of  a  woman's  nature.  She  pretended  to 
hesitate.  He  insisted  and  with  his  own  hands  seized 
the  end  and  began  to  unwind  the  gauzy  material. 

When  this  pretty  little  battle  was  over  and  the 
victory  remained  with  him,  he  took  her  by  the  hand 
and  led  her  to  the  cushioned  divan  and  enthroned  her 
there.  Then  at  his  summons  came  the  sharbat-dar 
x  and  brought  a  simple  but  delicious  refection,  begin 
ning  with  the  sweets  that  maidens  like.  Nor  did 
she,  being  Greek,  disdain  sipping  daintily  the  sweet- 
scented  date-wine  from  a  graceful  cup  shaped  like 
a  water-lily. 

Omar  had  made  sure  of  being  undisturbed.    There 


POET  AND   MAIDEN.  1 29 

was  nothing  that  troubled  his  mind,  unless  it  were 
the  fear  lest  the  maiden's  absence  should  be  discov 
ered.  But  when  he  suggested  that  possibility  she 
laughed  at  him  with  that  silvery  laugh  that  had  at 
first  rung  in  accord  with  hidden  harmonies  of  his 
heart. 

"  Were  I  a  dull-witted  Circassian  slave,"  she  said, 
"  there  might  be  cause  for  fear,  or  even  one  of  those 
Chinese  maids  with  their  black  hair  and  almond  eyes 
a-squint,  —  stupid  dummies,  though  the  Persians  do 
consider  them  models  of  beauty.  But  an  eye-flash 
of  wit  is  worth  all  the  rest.  So  trust  to  me." 

"  But  how  did  you  get  away  and  how  did  you 
come  ? "  queried  Omar,  with  all  the  inquisitiveness 
of  his  sex. 

"  I  walked  out  and  came  in  a  palankin,  —  as  a 
court -lady  should  do,"  said  Agape. 

"  But  did  no  one  attempt  to  prevent  you  ?  " 

"  Why  should  any  one  attempt  to  prevent  me  ? 
Besides  I  had  a  special  order  from  Nizamu'1-Mulk  ; 
and  all  the  Court  has  gone  to  the  turquoise  mountain. 
I  had  been  here  before  ;  I  knew  the  way." 

"  Mysterious  Agape ! "  exclaimed  Omar,  with  a 
man's  admiration  of  a  clever  woman  who  has  accom 
plished  a  miracle  and  makes  no  account  of  it.  "  I 
was  never  more  surprised  than  when  I  saw  you  danc 
ing —  dancing  in  this  very  pavilion  !  Unless  indeed 
I  may  confess  to  being  more  surprised  that  you  have 


130  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

answered  the  dearest  wish  of  my  soul  and  come  to 
be  with  me  here  alone.  Do  you  know  I  was  jealous 
of  even  the  two  who  with  me  saw  your  graceful  mo 
tions  as  you  swayed  like  a  flower  that  day,  and  told 
in  gesture  and  look  the  story  of  the  fair  Shakh-i- 
Nabat  and  the  Jinni.  I  would  fain  have  had  you  then 
all  to  myself.  How  favored  I  am  !  " 

And  once  more  Omar  spoke  with  softest  inflec 
tions  that  exquisite  quatrain  : 

"/  desire  a  sack  of  ruby  wine  and  a  dlwAn  of 
verses,  and  half  a  loaf,  to  keep  the  soul  in  the  body, 
and  to  sit  with  thec,  apart  from  all  the  world.  Ah, 
that  is  better  than  the  empire  of  the  Suit  An." 

"  Now  I  have  my  wish,"  he  added,  with  a  caress 
ing  look. 

"  And  you  have  given  me  something  better  than  a 
loaf  of  bread,"  said  Agap£. 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Omar,  pretending  to  be 
obtuse.  "  The  date-wine  ? " 

"  Nay,  the  poem.  That  I  shall  never  forget.  It  is 
sweeter  than  our  Platen's,  for  he  sang  : 

" '  Seat  thyself  'neath  this  high-branched  pine-tree 
that  murmurs  while  tlte  zephyrs  sigh  through  its 
needles,  and. near  the  lapsing  stream  my  pipe  shall 
bring  sweet  sleep  to  thy  soothed  eyelids'  " 

She  cited  it  in  Greek  and  he  wondered  how  she 
could  have  remembered  it.  She  had  to  repeat  it,  and 
yet  again,  before  he  caught  all  its  meaning,  for  it  is 


POET  AND   MAIDEN.  131 

one  thing  to  read  a  language  however  well,  and  an 
other  to  understand  it  when  spoken.  But  the  Greek 
and  the  Persian  are  not  so  alien  as  are  the  Persian 
and  the  Arabic.  Greek  and  Persian  are  sister  and 
brother:  Persian  and  Arabic  are  husband  and  wife, 
—  united  and  yet  not  akin. 

"  But  the  line  that  you  repeated  called  for  « the 
book  of  verses  underneath  the  bough?  I  claim  the 
promise  of  the  poems.  We  are  underneath  the 
bough." 

Here  now  entered  the  coquetry  of  genius.  The 
poet  and  singer,  even  when  they  greatly  desired  to 
show  off  their  accomplishments,  let  themselves  be 
urged.  It  is  the  expression  of  a  subtle  and  intoxi 
cating  self-flattery. 

"  You  do  not  care  to  hear  my  rough  verses," 
urged  Omar.  "  What  is  there  in  them  ?  " 

"  Our  Greek  poems  are  sweet,  but  they  do  not  so 
appeal  to  the  ear.  I  love  the  graceful,  swinging 
rhythm,  the  double  and  triple  rhymes,  falling  like  the 
rippling  waves  of  my  native  ^Egean." 

"  Tell  me  about  your  native  ^Egean,"  said  Omar. 

"  When  you  have  repeated  to  me  a  dlwan  of  your 
poems,  then  I  will." 

So  at  last  persuaded  by  her  pleading,  dark-brown 
eyes,  and  her  rosy  lips  so  enticingly  lifted,  he  began, 
and  first  he  repeated  the  quatrain  that  he  had  com 
posed  the  night  before  about  the  rose-bed  that 


132  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

marked  the  red  blood  of  mighty  kings,  and  the  violet 
arising  from  the  cheek  of  a  beautiful  maiden  : 

"  Har  sha  ke  gul-i  u  Idl-i  sari  budast 
As  sarkhyi  zhun-i  shar-yari  budast : 

Har  shagi  bunassha  kaz  zamin  ml  ruid 
Khdlast  ke  bar  rukh-i  nagari  budast" 

"  Nay,  but  that  is  too  melancholy ! "  exclaimed 
Agape.  "  It  makes  my  blood  run  cold  !  I  love  light, 
and  color,  and  beauty,  and  cheerfulness." 

"  Then  tell  me  how  you  like  this  one : 

"«  With  my  rose-blooming  Love  my  very  soul  is  united! 
My  hand  with  the  flask  and  the  brimming  bowl  is  united ! 

Ay  !     Every  part  of  my  earthly  lot  I  will  joy  in 
Ere  my  every  part  with  the  One  Great  Whole  is  united?  "  * 

"I  like  them  all,  but  I  like  the  joyous  ones  the 
best.  I  know  that  life  is  full  of  shadows  and  terrible 
things,  and  I  am  often  homesick,  but  for  all  that 
when  I  see  the  sunlight  glinting  on  the  river  and  the 
poppies  swaying  in  the  sweet-scented  breeze,  and 
the  swallows  darting  through  the  azure  and  playing 
hide-and-seek  with  the  clouds,  then  my  heart  beats 
with  rapture,  and  I,  too,  could  fly  away  and  forget 
every  care ! " 

Then  she  insisted  on  hearing  some  more,  and  he 
chose  some  of  his  cheerfulest  ones  ;  but  as  he  told 
her,  most  of  them  were  composed  before  he  had  seen 

1  Somewhat  altered  from  the  translation  of  John  Payne. 


POET  AND   MAIDEN.  133 

her,  and  she  made  him  promise  to  write  her  a  little 
book  of  them.  But  he  would  not  promise  before 
she  had  agreed  to  give  him  a  kiss  for  every  verse,  — 
the  busa-dusti,  he  called  it,  —  and,  like  a  crafty  trades 
man,  he  wished  half  of  them  paid  in  advance ! 

" '  Hold  fast  this  ready  money,  and  let  go  that 
promise-to-pay ! '  "  he  quoted  from  one  of  his  own 
quatrains.  And  they  compromised  by  four  kisses 
for  the  four  lines  of  the  following  impromptu  : 

"  Arise  !  give  wine  /     What  do  we  need  to  say  ? 
Thy  sweet  young  mouth  Jills  all  my  need  to-day  / 

Give  wine  as  rosy  as  thy  rosy  cheeks  ! 
Thy  tangled  curls  repentance  plead  to-day  !  " 

Then  when  that  little  debt  was  gallantly  paid  - 
did  we  not  say  that  love  makes  even  wise  men  ridic 
ulous,  and  did  not  the  great  Sultan  Suleyman  declare 
that  past  all  comprehension  is  the  way  of  a  man 
with  a  maid  ?  —  Omar  suggested  that  it  was  time  for 
him  to  hear  the  story  of  Agape's  life.  Was  he  not 
dying  with  desire  to  know  how  she,  a  Greek  maiden, 
happened  to  be  in  the  Court  of  Mah'kshah  ?  How 
had  he  been  able  to  curb  his  curiosity  so  long  ? 
Here  already  the  sun  was  beginning  to  slant  towards 
the  western  mountains,  and  the  shadows  were  grow 
ing  long. 

"  But  my  story  is  not  long  or  very  interesting," 
said  Agape. 

"  How  could  anything  that  concerns  thee  fail  to 


134  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

be  interesting  ? "  exclaimed  Omar,  in  protest,  and  he 
looked  so  serious  out  of  his  handsome  eyes  that 
Agap£  laughed  merrily. 

"  But  can  we  not  go  down  nearer  the  river  ? " 
asked  the  girl.  Omar  took  her  by  the  hand  —  he 
was  not  too  old  to  be  thrilled  by  its  touch  —  and 
they  sauntered  slowly  down  through  the  bustan  to 
a  little  clump  of  arghav^n-trees  still  glorious  with 
their  crimson  buds  just  bursting  into  bloom.  Here 
there  was  waiting  for  them  a  rustic  seat  wide  enough 
for  two,  for  any  seat  is  wide  enough  for  two  that  will 
hold  one,  when  the  two  are  lovers.  The  birds  were 
singing  with  all  their  hearts ;  the  wind  had  died 
down ;  the  river  was  so  glassy  that  every  tree  and 
reed  on  the  opposite  bank  had  its  counterpart  in  the 
world  of  reflections.  Not  far  away  a  lute  player 
was  strumming  gaily,  and  in  a  peach  orchard  at  the 
left  of  the  poppy  field  the  nightingale  was  essaying 
the  first  flights  of  his  passionate  song.  Such  days, 
such  hours,  such  moments,  come  rarely,  and  perhaps 
only  once  in  a  man's  experience.  As  Omar  looked 
at  the  lovely  girl,  whose  liquid  eyes  answered  his 
deepest  thought,  whose  fragrant,  intoxicating  breath 
caressed  his  brown  beard,  who  nestled  so  confidingly 
into  the  shelter  of  his  arm,  he  could  hardly  believe 
that  it  was  not  all  a  dream,  and  as  they  sat  there 
under  the  declining  day,  Agape,  in  her  pretty,  broken 
Palahvi,  told  him  the  story  of  her  life. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

AGAPE'S  STORY. 

"  HAVE  you  ever  seen  the  sea  ?  "  she  asked  first. 

"  No,  but  I  have  seen  the  desert,"  replied  Omar. 

"  Oh,  but  the  beauty  of  the  sea ! "  exclaimed 
Agape.  . 

"  Oh,  but  the  beauty  of  the  desert !  "  interrupted 
Omar. 

"  Your  desert  is  covered  with  salt,  and  not  a  tree 
grows  in  it." 

"  Your  sea  is  nothing  but  salt  water,  and  not  a 
flower  grows  in  it." 

"  Ah  !  but  it  is  blue,  like  a  turquoise,  and  the  soft 
wind  curls  the  waves  and  makes  them  break  into 
white,  like  liquid  marble." 

"  Yes,  and  over  the  desert  plays  the  sihrab,  —  the 
magic  water,  and  how  fascinating  it  is  to  watch  it : 
now  there  are  cities  with  walls  and  domes,  now  it  is 
like  a  pond,  and  it  changes  all  the  time.  Oh,  the 
desert  is  beautiful !  " 

"  But  no  desert  can  equal  the  beauty  of  the  Gulf 

'35 


136  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

of  Corinth  or  the  ^Egean  Sea !  And  now  I  will  tell 
you.  I  was  born  by  the  sea;  I  was  born  at  Athens," 
said  Agap£,  "and  my  very  earliest  recollections  are 
of  Athens.  Oh,  Poet  of  poets,  had  you  lived  in 
Hellas  instead  of  in  Iran !  Oh,  I  can  shut  my  eyes 
now  and  see  the  Akropolis  with  its  dream  of  beauty, 
—  the  temples  glowing  in  the  sunlight." 

She  suited  the  action  to  the  word,  and  Omar  seized 
the  opportunity  to  touch  gently  with  his  lips  the  blue- 
veined  eyelids  quivering  with  the  thought  of  what 
her  inner  vision  saw. 

She  opened  her  eyes,  as  if  she  had  just  wakened 
from  sleep,  and  went  on : 

"  Once,  they  say,  all  Persia  came  to  Athens,  and 
the  king,  though  his  forces  overran  the  whole  coun 
try,  took  such  delight  in  the  temple  of  Athene  and 
the  marble  sculptures  that  adorn  it,  that  he  would 
not  allow  his  soldiers  to  harm  a  single  statue.  I 
don't  know ;  I  only  know  that  I  was  born  under  its 
very  shadow,  and  that  as  a  little  girl  I  used  to  look 
up  and  see  those  marble  columns,  and  the  lovely 
images,  glowing  under  a  sky  brighter  even  than 
this  lovely  sky.  And  when  I  was  older  I  used 
sometimes  to  climb  up  the  steep  hill  and  sit  on 
the  steps  and  look  down  on  the  city  at  my  feet, 
and  off  to  the  mountains  and  across  to  the  violet 
sea.  Oh,  the  thought  of  it  makes  me  sick  with 
longing ! " 


AGAP£'S  STORY.  137 

The  bright  diamond-like  tear  came  into  her  beau 
tiful  eyes,  but  instantly  the  sun  of  her  smile  shone 
through  them,  and,  as  it  were,  turned  them  into 
rainbows.  She  said,  "But  there  I  had  no  poet  to 
tell  my  story  to  ;  and  I  had  no  story  to  tell." 

And  Omar's  heart  was  gladdened  by  the  music  of 
her  laugh. 

"My  father,"  she  went  on  to  say,  "was  the  proto- 
kometes  or  hereditary  chief  of  a  little  district,  and 
they  used  to  call  me  'the  princess.'  We  lived  in 
comfort,  and  my  father,  who  was  fond  of  our  ancient 
books,  taught  me  also  to  love  Homer.  Oh,  I  could 
repeat  by  heart  all  the  lovely  story  of  our  great  hero 
Odysseus,  coming  from  the  island  of  Kalypso  and 
visiting  the  land  of  the  Phaiakians,  —  I  heard  you 
the  other  afternoon  telling  the  story  of  Byzun  and 
Manijeh.  Oh,  and  the  garden  was  like  this  : 

" '  Roses  blooming,  sparkling  fountains  murmur 
ing,  the  earth  rich  with  many-colored  flowers,  musk 
floating  on  the  breeze,  hyacinths  and  lilies  perfuming 
the  air,  the  bright  pheasant  strutting  stately  along, 
the  bulbiil  warbling  from  the  cypresses  —  ' 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Omar,  "and  here  is  'the 
love-inspiring  maiden,  her  lips  sweet  with  smiles, 
her  cheeks  like  roses.'  ' 

"  I  cannot  tell  my  story  in  a  straightforward  way 
if  you  interrupt  me  so,"  said  Agape,  laughing  again, 
for  she  herself  saw  that  she  had  been  wandering  from 


138  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

the  path  of  her  story.     "But,  as  I   was  saying,   I 
came  to  love  Homer  - 

"  If  you  would  only  say  that  you  came  to  love 
Omar,"  said  the  poet,  with  an  Oriental's  excessive 
fondness  for  playing  on  words. 

Agap£'s  look  was  sufficient  answer  to  that,  and 
would  have  satisfied  the  most  exacting  lover. 

"  My  mother  died  when  I  was  young,"  continued 
the  girl,  "  and  I  was  more  to  my  father  than  many 
daughters,  for  I  had  no  brothers  and  only  one  little 
flower  of  a  sister.  I  wonder  where  she  is  now !  .  .  . 
We  lived  in  Athens  till  I  was  sixteen  ;  no,  till  I  had 
seen  seventeen  winters,  —  " 

"  Seventeen  summers,"  interrupted  Omar ;  but 
Agap£  smiled  and  went  on  : 

"  And  then  my  father  took  me  to  the  little  village 
where  he  needed  to  look  after  his  property.  It  was 
across  the  violet  sea  that  we  sailed,  and  how  I  wish 
that  you,  O  Poet  of  poets,  might  take  that  voyage  —  " 

"  With  you  ?  "  asked  Omar. 

"  Yes,  with  me,"  said  Agap£,  enthusiastically.  «« I 
would  point  out  to  you  the  islands  like  gems,  the 
mountains  rising  into  that  exquisite  turquoise 
sky  —  " 

"  Lovelier  than  yonder  mountains  ? "  asked  Omar, 
lifting  her  hand  and  pointing  with  it  and  his  to  the 
distant  snow-clad  peaks  turning  into  purple  glories 
under  the  level  rays  of  the  sun. 


AGAP£'S  STORY.  139 

"  Yes,  because  they  rise  out  of  the  sea  !  There  is 
Olympos,  where  they  say  the  gods  used  to  live,  —  I 
love  to  read  about  them  in  our  poems,  —  and  you  are 
the  only  Persian  that  can  read  them  or  understand 
them  !  .  .  .  Well,  we  crossed  the  ^Egean  in  a  little 
vessel  and  we  landed  at  Smyrna,  and  then  we  had  to 
ride  many  days  before  we  came  to  my  father's  village. 
Since  he  had  been  there  last  great  changes  had  taken 
place.  The  men  of  your  religion  —  " 

"  Not  of  mine,  sweetheart,  because  I  could  have 
no  religion  but  yours,"  said  Omar. 

"I  am  a  Christian,"  said  Agape,  simply,  "or  at 
least  I  was  —  " 

"  Then,  so  am  I !  "  said  Omar.  "  If  you  were  a  Fire 
Worshipper,  then  I  too  would  be  a  Fire  Worshipper." 

"  What  was  I  saying  ?  Oh,  yes,  our  village  had 
become  Muhammadan.  Most  of  the  former  inhabi 
tants  had  been  carried  off  or  killed.  We  found  one 
poor  old  man  who  told  us  how  it  had  all  happened. 
It  was  dreadful.  Then  my  father  resolved  to  go  to 
Byzantium  and  try  to  get  the  emperor  to  send  an 
army  and  regain  that  district.  But  before  he  had  a 
chance  to  make  his  arrangements  we  were  taken 
prisoners  and  sent  to  Bagdad.  The  Sultan  Alp 
Arslan  happened  to  be  there  at  the  time.  He  was 
not  discourteous  to  us.  When  my  father  told  him 
how  he  happened  to  be  taken  prisoner,  the  Sultan 
gave  him  leave  to  return  to  Greece  to  secure  a  ran- 


140  OMAR    THE    TKNTMAKER. 

som ;  but  he  obliged  him  to  leave  me  as  a  hostage. 
That  was  four  years  ago,  and  shortly  after  Alp  Ars- 
lan  was  killed  and  the  present  Sultan  came  to  the 
throne." 

"  Have  you  never  in  all  this  time  heard  from  your 
father  ? " 

"  Never  a  word  !  Sometimes  I  think  he  must  be 
dead !  It  is  our  Greek  nature,  you  know,  to  be 
hopeful  and  to  see  the  sun  behind  the  clouds,  and 
yet  often  and  more  often,  oh,  how  often,  when  I  am 
alone,  I  weep  for  him  and  for  my  beloved  Athens.  I 
have  been  kindly  treated.  I  have  been  almost  free. 
Mah'kshah  has  scarcely  noticed  me,  but  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  has  been  like  a  father  to  me.  He  has  taken 
the  deepest  interest  in  me,  and  pitied  me.  But  I 
must  get  away,  I  must  get  away,  for  I  am  not  free. 
I  must  go  and  find  my  father —  if  he  is  alive !  " 

There  was  a  tremor  in  her  voice  which  betokened 
that  the  fountain  of  tears  was  opening,  but  suddenly 
the  mercurial  little  creature  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
sunset,  and  with  the  Greek  love  for  color  she  forgot 
her  sorrow,  as  she  was  constantly  forgetting  it.  And 
the  sunset  reminded  her  that  she  must  not  linger 
another  minute. 

"  There,"  said  she,  "  I  have  told  you  my  story, 
and  I  told  you  that  there  was  not  much  to  tell.  The 
greatest  event  of  my  life  was  — 

But    she  did   not   finish   the  sentence.     She  left 


AG APE'S  STORY.  141 

Omar  to  complete  it,  and  he  was  Persian  and  keen 
enough  to  do  so. 

"In  the  days  of  Mahmud,"  said  he,  "there"  were 
seven  great  poets,  and  the  greatest  of  them  all  was 
Hasan,  who  was  called  the  Poet  of  Paradise,  —  Fir- 
dausi.  And  Firdausi  tells  of  love  at  sight.  The 
daughter  of  Gureng,  King  of  Zabulistan,  found 
Jemshyd  sitting  in  a  garden  in  the  city  of  Rus- 
temdar  in  the  spring  season  when  the  roses  were 
in  bloom,  just  as  they  are  in  bloom  to-day.  She 
thought  he  was  a  warrior  of  Iran,  with  wide  shoul 
ders  and  well-girt  loins,  his  face  pale  as  the  pome 
granate,  looking  like  light  in  darkness,  and  she  gave 
him  to  drink  of  the  ruby  wine,  and  when  he  hesitated 
to  come  in  she  said  :  '  Why  dost  thou  hesitate  ?  I 
am  permitted  by  my  father  to  do  as.  I  please;  my 
heart  is  my  own.'  And  the  moment  he  looked  into 
her  lovely  face,  his  heart  was  enamored  of  her. 
And  he  complied,  and  she  took  him  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  into  the  beautiful  garden,  moving  along  with 
dignified  and  graceful  step,  as  moves  the  mountain 
partridge  through  the  meadow,  her  long  hair  falling 
even  to  her  feet,  and  filling  the  air  with  the  sweet 
odor  of  musk.  .  .  .  Thus  Omar  at  sight  of  the  fair 
Agape  was  at  once  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  Love. 
And  Agap£  ? " 

"  Agape,  like  the  daughter  of  Gureng,  also  saw 
the  stranger  at  the  very  first  with  the  eyes  of  Love, 


142  OAfAK    THE    TENTMAKER. 

because  he  was  a  poet.  .  .  .  Hut  see!  the  sun  is 
already  setting.  I  must  hasten  back." 

"  But  you  will  come  again  ?  Come  to-morrow  ? 
When  shall  I  take  thee  to  my  mother's  house  ? 
Remember  the  daughter  of  Gureng  took  Jemshyd 
for  her  spouse,  and  Rustem,  with  equal  good  fortune, 
won  Tamineh.  Do  you  remember  how  she  stood 
before  him,  brighter  than  the  moon,  her  eyes  spar 
kling  with  a  heavenly  light,  with  cypress  form  and 
waving  curls,  her  eyebrows  like  a  bended  bow,  her 
curls  snares  for  his  heart,  her  cheek  glowing  like  the 
rose  and  lily,  earrings  in  her  delicate  ears,  and  her 
lips  like  honey,  while  sparkling  pearls  gleamed  in 
her  rosebud  mouth,  full  of  fragrance  she  stood  before 
him,  just  as  you,  pearl  of  women,  in  your  haste  to 
leave  me,  are  now  standing  in  front  of  me,  while  I 
hold  your  two  little  hands,  and  kiss  first  one  and 
then  the  other  ?  " 

"  But  really  I  must  go,"  she  said.  "  Yes,  I  will 
come  to-morrow,  and  we  will  plan  what  we  can  do." 

"  But  how  will  you  go  ? "  he  asked.  "  It  is  not 
safe  for  you  to  go  alone." 

"I  shall  not  go  alone,"  she  replied.  "The  Ag& 
Zalym  is  waiting  for  me  with  a  palankin.  Remember 
that  you  are  to  give  me  the  dlwan  of  verses." 

"  And  remember  that  you  are  to  pay  me  for  them. 
Give  me  another  instalment  of  the  payment." 

"Then  repeat  one  more  ruba'l." 


AG APE'S  STORY.  143 

Omar  thought  for  a  moment,  and  in  his  passionate 
voice  repeated  the  poem  beginning,  Bar  rui  gtil, 
changing  only  one  or  two  words  to  make  it  suit  the 
occasion : 

"  On  the  face  of  the  Rose  the  cloud-veil  remaineth  still; 
In  the  depth  of  my  heart  the  wine-thirst  complaineth  still. 

Do  not  depart  yet,  why  should  sleep  call  thee  ? 
Give  me  wine,  sweetheart,  for  the  Daylight  reigneth  still.'" 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE   JEALOUS    PRIESTS. 

IN  all  religions,  in  every  age,  the  priests,  as  a 
class,  have  claimed  their  privileges  with  the  greatest 
jealousy.  Accustomed  to  the  belief,  carefully  culti 
vated,  if  not  in  their  own  souls,  at  least  in  the  souls 
of  the  exoteric,  that  they  are  in  possession  of  the 
only  channels  of  communication  between  God  and 
man,  and  that  they  have  the  power  of  wielding  the 
very  thunderbolts  of  the  Almighty,  they  guard,  and 
always  have  guarded,  with  fiery  zeal  this  prerogative. 
Witness  the  power  wielded  by  the  Hebrew  priests 
and  Levites,  the  hierarchic  web  woven  by  the  priestly 
caste  in  ancient  Egypt,  the  despotism  of  the  old 
Latin  flamincs,  the  long  arm  extended  by  the  popes. 
Not  less  grasping  were  the  Mollahs,  or  priests  of 
Islam.  Many  times  the  "  Shadow  of  God  "  —  Sava-i 
Hoda,  as  the  Sultan  was  called  —  was  made  to  feel 
their  hand.  Many  times  they  dared  cross  or  bend 
the  imperial  will. 

Hasan  ben  Sabah  well  understood  the  working  of 
this  secret  politic,  and  having  been  himself  trained  in 

»44 


THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS.  145 

the  strictest  sect  of  the  faith,  he  resolved  to  profit 
by  it. 

We  have  seen  that  he  knew  of  the  Sultan's  expe 
dition  with  Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  Omar  Khayyam.  His 
informant  did  not  succeed  in  witnessing  the  irregular 
entertainment,  especially  the  wine-drinking  which  the 
two  rulers  had  indulged  in.  But  Hasan  knew  of  Omar's 
reputation,  and  had  no  doubt  that  the  unlawful  was 
practised  then  and  there.  The  fact  of  the  existence 
of  the  tavern  —  called  kherabat  or  ruins,  because,  on 
the  establishment  of  Islam  as  the  state  religion,  the 
wine-houses  were  generally  concealed  from  official 
knowledge  in  the  long-neglected  atash-kadah  or  fire- 
temple  of  the  old  Parsis.  He  resolved  to  show  his 
hand.  It  happened  that  the  chief  of  the  Quran 
Readers,  the  so-called  Proof  of  Islam,  Abu'l  Hasan 
Al-Ghazzali,  was  at  that  time  in  Nishapur,  attracted 
by  the  presence  of  the  Court.  At  the  first  possible 
opportunity  Hasan  ben  Sabah  took  counsel  with  Al- 
Ghazzali  to  shut  up  the  tavern  where  Omar  was  so 
fond  of  tasting  the  "rivers  of  wine,  delight  of  the 
drinkers,"  as  Muhammad  called  it. 

"  Is  it  not  a  shame,  O  Proof  of  Islam,"  said  Hasan 
ben  Sabah,  putting  on  a  pharisaical  look  of  horror, 
"  that  the  laws  of  Muhammad  are  violated  even 
under  the  walls  of  the  city  ? " 

"  What  is  your  meaning,  Ba-sakar-i  ? " 

"  My  meaning  is  that  within  less  than  a  farsakh 


146  OMAK    THE    TENTAfAKEK. 

from  this  spot  stands  a  tavern  where  wine  is  openly 
sold.  I  have  it  on  the  best  authority  that  the  Ha- 
ktm  Omar,  called  the  Tentmaker,  goes  frequently 
there  and  boasts  of  his  debaucheries !  " 

"  Omar  Khayyam  is  the  shame  of  Islam  ;  had  I 
my  way  I  would  give  him  the  bastinado.  A  ruba'l 
composed  by  him,  and  now  going  the  rounds,  shows 
him  shameless.  In  it  he  exults  in  the  fact  that 
though  he  is  over  thirty  he  has  not  as  yet  taken  unto 
himself  a  wife  ;  and  that  for  a  Muslim  is  a  disgrace." 

"  But  he  is  in  high  favor  with  '  the  Shadow  of 
God ! '  It  will  not  do  to  touch  him  ;  except  in 
directly." 

"  How  may  that  be  done  ?  " 

"  Complain  to  the  Sultan  that  his  tavern  is  a  sink 
of  injguity  and  oblige  him  to  order  the  muhtesib  to 
raze  it  to  the  ground." 

"  It  shall  be  done  and  that  immediately." 

This  conversation  took  place  shortly  after  the  Sul 
tan  had  returned  from  his  visit  to  the  turquoise  mines 
of  Abti  Ishak,  where  he  had  enjoyed  a  most  exciting 
chase  of  the  wild  ass.  He  was,  therefore,  in  the 
height  of  good  humor  when,  as  he  was  seated  on 
his  throne,  — a  gift  from  a  rajah  of  northern  India,  — 
ebony  carved  it  was,  and  cunningly  inlaid  with  ex 
quisite  designs,  —  when  Al-Ghazzali  with  an  expres 
sion  of  appalling  sternness  on  his  face  drew  near  and 
stood  like  a  prophet  before  him.  He  was  a  man  of 


THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS.  147 

striking  appearance,  with  snow-white  beard  and  long, 
flowing  locks,  dressed  in  the  snow-white  dress  of  his 
order.  A  rumor  ran  through  the  assembly  and  then 
deep  silence  followed. 

"  Speak  !  O  Mirror  of  the  Truth  !  What  would 
you  have  ? " 

"Tahlil  la  illaha  illalla  hu !  There  is  no  God 
but  God  !  "  exclaimed  the  Chief  Reader,  piously.  "  I 
am  credibly  informed  that  the  law  of  Muhammad  is 
broken  in  this  city,  which,  now  that  the  Shadow  of 
God  is  here,  should  be  the  Suburb  of  Paradise." 

"  'Tis  a  grave  charge,  O  Light  of  the  Faith  !  Be 
more  specific !  What  is  the  law  that  is  broken  ? 
Tell  me,  and  by  Allah,  the  guilty  man  shall  not 
escape !  " 

"  On  the  bank  of  the  river  that  flows  south  of  the 
city  there  is  a  notorious  tavern  where  the  forbidden 
wine  flows  freely.  I  demand  that  the  tavern  be 
destroyed." 

"  How  know  you  of  this  tavern,  Keen  Eye  of  the 
-Law  ? " 

"  Ask  the  Hakim  Omar  al  Khayyami,  who  has  the 
reputation  of  frequenting  that  unhallowed  haunt." 

All  eyes  were  turned  on  Omar,  who,  putting  his 
hands  to  his  breast,  bowed  low,  and  without  showing 
the  least  discomposure  said,  in  his  soothing,  delight 
fully  melodious  voice  : 

"  Yes,  verily,  and  Yahmid,  alhamdu  lillah  —  Praise 


148  OMAR    THE    TENTMAK'ER. 

be  to  God !  I  have  on  the  end  of  my  tongue  a  poem 
that  answers  the  reproach  of  our  learned  Proof  of 
Islam.  Shall  I  repeat  it  ?  " 

The  Sultan  gave  his  assent  and  Omar  with  a 
twinkle  of  fun  in  his  eye  repeated  the  quatrain  be 
ginning  : 

"  Mai  mihur&m  u  mahalafan  as  chap  u  rAst" 

"  Wine  I  eat,  and  enemies  from  left  and  right 
Say,  '  Drink  not  wine,  for  'tis  Religion's  foe.' 
When  I  learned  that  wine  was  Religion's  foe, 
'  By  Allah,'  (said  1),  «  let  me  eat  the  blood  of 
the  enemy  since  that  is  lawful.'  "  * 

Al-Ghazzali  turned  pale  with  rage  and  was  strongly 
tempted  to  show  his  indignation  by  spitting ;  but 
dared  not  in  the  very  presence  of  the  Sultan.  He 
muttered  beneath  his  breath  such  words  as  mulhyd, 
heretic,  and  zindik,  blasphemer.  He  could  not  for 
get  how,  when  last  he  met  Omar,  Sanjar's  great 
Wazir  Abd-ur-Razzak  had  called  Omar  the  authority 
on  the  Quran,  and  that  when  there  had  been  a  disa 
greement  concerning  a  certain  reading  of  the  text, 
Omar,  being  asked  his  opinion,  enumerated  the  vari 
ous  readings  and  explained  the  grounds  for  each,  men- 

1  Why,  be  this  juice  the  growth  of  God,  who  dare 
Blaspheme  the  twisted  tendril  as  a  snare  ? 

A  blessing,  we  should  use  it,  should  we  not  ? 
And  if  a  curse,  —  why  then,  who  set  it  there  ? 

—  Edward  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS.  149 

tioning,  also,  the  exceptional  readings,  and  express 
ing  his  preference  for  the  very  one  that  he,  himself, 
the  Chief  of  Quran  Readers,  had  rejected.  And  he 
had  done  it  all  so  eloquently  that  every  one  who 
heard  him  was  convinced.  Al-Ghazzali  could  not 
forgive  him  for  such  insulting  superiority  and  now 
hoped  for  his  revenge.  And  here  was  the  scoffer 
replying  to  his  complaints  with  a  poem  which  actually 
quoted  the  Quran  in  favor  of  wine-drinking  because, 
forsooth,  Muhammad  had  ordered  his  followers  to 
destroy  their  enemies.  Moreover,  as  usual,  Omar's 
wit  had  carried  with  him  all  who  heard  him  and 
there  was  danger  that  the  irregularity  would  con 
tinue  unabated. 

He  therefore  bent  on  Omar  a  scowling  face  and 
then,  turning  to  the  Sultan,  said  : 

"  In  Musulman-i  durust  nist !  Surely  he  is  no 
genuine  Musulman  !  O  Commander  of  the  Faith 
ful,  surely  such  flippancy  is  out  of  place !  The 
Faithful  complain  at  the  scandal,  and  in  the  name 
of  our  faith  I  solemnly  demand  that  the  offending 
blot  be  wiped  out." 

Such  an  appeal  could  not  go  unheeded.  Malfk- 
shah  immediately  ordered  the  muhtesib,  who  had 
charge  of  the  policing  of  the  city,  and  whose  duty 
it  was  to  eradicate  houses  of  ill  fame  and  taverns, 
to  be  summoned. 

The  man  came  trembling  ;  perhaps  he  was  con- 


150  OMAR    THE    TENTAfAKER. 

scious  that  he  had  been  derelict  in  his  duties  ;  certain 
sums  of  money  that  had  found  their  way  into  his 
pocket  as  hush-money  for  permitting  the  weeds  of 
sin  to  flourish  unrooted  in  the  garden  of  his  over 
sight  may  have  troubled  him. 

But  the  Sultan,  intent  simply  on  satisfying  Al- 
Ghazzali,  for  he  knew  that  even  he,  the  Shadow  of 
Allah,  could  not  afford  to  offend  the  Moliahs,  bade 
him  take  a  body  of  men  and  destroy  the  offending 
tavern. 

Omar,  who  heard  with  amazement  and  pain  the 
order  permitting  such  a  piece  of  tyranny,  was  cast 
ing  about  in  his  mind  how  he  could  send  a  word  of 
warning  to  his  friend  Al-Hammar,  the  jolly  proprietor 
of  the  tavern.  He  would  have  himself  gone,  but  it 
was  impossible.  He  would  have  protested,  but  he 
knew  that  any  formal  protest  could  only  stir  up  his 
enemies,  the  pietists,  to  greater  animosity.  But  he 
felt  that  Mali'kshah  was  placed  in  a  peculiarly  trying 
position,  having  himself,  as  it  were,  accepted  poor 
Al-Hammar's  hospitality. 

The  Sultan  shortly  after  this  trying  episode  dis 
missed  his  Court,  retaining  only  his  Wazir.  As 
Omar  was  about  departing  with  a  feeling  of  indigna 
tion  in  his  heart,  a  page  called  him  back.  The 
Sultan  wished  to  speak  privately  with  him. 

"  I  read  your  thoughts  in  your  face,  my  Prince  of 
Poets,"  said  Mali'kshah,  when  they  were  out  of  hear- 


THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS.  IfJI 

ing  of  the  rest.  "  I  am  full  of  regret  for  this  hard 
necessity,  but  there  is  no  real  harm  done.  I  have 
already  sent  a  trusty  messenger  to  warn  your  friend  ; 
and  after  a  little  he  will  build  his  tavern  better  than 
before.  I  will  see  to  it  that  his  loss  is  more  than 
made  good.  I  do  not  forget  the  good  cheer  that  we 
enjoyed." 

This  assurance  somewhat  cheered  Omar,  but  what 
concerned  him  most  was  the  interruption  that  this 
destruction  of  his  favorite  tavern  might  cause  in  his 
pleasant  intercourse  with  his  little  Greek  princess. 
She  had  promised  to  come  the  next  day,  but  he  him 
self  had  been  prevented ;  a  special  messenger  from 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  summoned  him  as  an  expert  to 
the  turquoise  mines,  and  he  had  of  course  been 
obliged  to  depart  immediately,  as  there  was  urgency 
in  the  call.  He  had  been  gone  two  days,  —  days 
which  would  have  been  full  of  the  keenest  enjoy 
ment  had  it  not  been  for  that  foolish  fever  in  his 
blood. 

The  next  day  after  the  return  of  the  Court,  Malik- 
shah  insisted  on  his  going  with  him  and  a  small  party 
to  hunt  the  hubard  or  spotted  bustard,  which  requires 
two  kinds  of  hawks,  that  used  in  chasing  the  wild  ass 
and  another  that  will  attack  the  hubara  as  it  flies 
along.  This  was  the  most  delightful  sport  that  Omar 
had  ever  enjoyed ;  for,  as  he  told  Agape,  there  was 
for  him  a  great  fascination  about  the  desert,  and  who 


152  OMAR    THE    TENTAIAKER. 

could  not  feel  the  zest  of  sitting  on  a  beautiful,  intelli 
gent  horse  and  watching  the  well-trained  hawks  spy 
out  their  prey  miles  away  and  with  almost  human 
endeavor  fly  to  meet  it,  and  to  win  the  victory  over 
a  creature  so  many  times  its  size,  quickness  being 
more  than  a  match  for  strength  ?  The  exhilaration 
of  the  swift  dash  across  the  level  plain  ;  the  pleasure 
of  congenial  company,  —  all  this  had  tended  to  make 
Omar  for  the  time  being  forget  the  misfortune  of 
being  unable  to  keep  his  appointment  with  Agap£. 
It  was  impossible  for  him  to  send  her  any  word  ! 
Would  she  forgive  him  ?  What  had  happened  ?  Had 
she  gone  there  and  imagined  him  recreant  ?  All  the 
pleasures  of  the  mountain-side,  the  glorious  views  that 
he  as  a  poet  could  not  fail  to  appreciate,  the  excite 
ment  of  the  chase,  and  the  friendly  words  of  the  Sul 
tan  could  not  wholly  banish  the  anxiety  that  swelled 
his  heart  when  he  thought  of  what  he  had  lost. 

The  day  that  Hasan  ben  Sabah  had  chosen  for  his 
insidious  attack  was  Friday,  the  Muhammadan  Sab 
bath,  and  Omar  knew  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
Agap£  to  meet  him  that  day.  He  himself  would 
have  had  no  hesitation  in  going  there  on  Friday 
any  more  than  any  other  day  :  did  he  not  write  — 

"Friday  and  Saturday  in  our  religion  are  one ; 
worship  Allah!  be  no  day  worshipper;  and  if  thou 
/last  drunken  on  Monday t  drink  also  on  Friday1?" 

But   Omar  was  a  true   Oriental  and   a    Fatalist. 


THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS.  153 

When  in  his  passionate  infatuation  for  Agape  he 
had  composed  the  quatrain  — 

"  From  science  and  piety  flee — for  so  it  is  best ! 
Twine  thy  fingers  in  the  curls  of  thy  love,  for  so  it  is  best. 

Ere  Destiny  spill  thy  blood  on  the  ground 
Pour  info  the  cup  the  blood  of  the  flask,  for  so  it  is  best "  — 

he  did  not  really  renounce  his  philosophy,  though  for 
the  moment  he  was  nearly  carried  away.  He  there 
fore  tried  to  calm  his  perturbation  and  wait  develop- 
ments,  knowing  that  the  Sultan  would  keep  his  word. 

His  three  days'  absence  from  Agape  had  had  one 
important  effect  on  him.  He  had  begun  to  wonder  if 
after  all  it  would  be  best  for  him  to  take  the  girl  as 
his  wife.  It  would  make  an  absolute  change  in  all 
his  life ;  he  had  for  years  resisted  his  mother's  plea 
that  he  should  marry,  he  had  good-naturedly  laughed 
when  she  told  him  that  it  was  contrary  to  his  duty  as 
a  good  Muhammadan  to  live  in  the  unmarried  state. 
He  always  replied  that  he  was  not  a  good  Muham 
madan,  and  why  should  he  now,  having  withheld  so 
long,  rush  on  like  a  heedless  youth,  put  his  head  into 
the  noose  of  marriage,  and  bring  to  his  house  a  gay 
young  girl  of  alien  race  and  religion  ? 

It  was  a  serious  question  and  doubts  began  to  as 
sail  him.  Through  the  veil  of  these  misgivings  he  saw 
his  love  just  as  passionate,  just  as  youthful,  just  as 
beautiful  as  it  had  been  three  days  before.  It  was 


154  OMAR   THE    TENTMAKER. 

a  strange  mental  state,  as  if  his  mind  were  divided 
into  two  compartments  by  the  clinging  woven  curtain 
of  doubt  and  as  if  himself  a  disinterested  observer 
were  enabled  to  look  into  both  and  compare  them. 
On  the  one  side  stood  Agap£,  so  beautiful,  so  fond, 
so  sprightly  in  conversation,  so  well-educated,  so  dif 
ferent  from  any  woman  he  had  ever  seen  before ;  on 
the  other  his  studies,  his  freedom,  his  bachelor  wont. 
Moreover,  if  he  took  her  as  his  wife,  she  would 
have  to  conform  to  the  marriage  customs  of  Persia ; 
it  might  be  permitted  him,  as  it  was,  to  set  himself 
above  the  law,  and  to  endure  the  criticisms  of  his 
stricter  neighbors ;  but  even  he  sometimes  found 
the  aloofness  of  his  father's  friends  a  trial,  as  is 
shown  by  the  poem  where  he  says  : 

"/?/',  Heart,  for  a  time  seek  not  the  company  of  the  love-sick; 
Cease  for  a  time  to  engross  thyself  -with  the  commerce  of  love. 
Frequent  the  thresholds  of  the  Darwish&n  ; 
Perhaps  then  thou  mayest  be  accepted  by  the  Elect  (moduli}" 

But  as  a  general  thing  he  cared  nothing  for  the 
bitter  remarks  of  the  Faithful,  the  hypocritical  re 
proaches  of  the  Mollahs,  who,  he  knew  perfectly 
well,  not  only  envied  him,  but  in  many  cases  secretly 
practised  what  he  openly  avowed. 

"  Follow  not  the  SnnnAt  (that  is  t/ie  Traditions  of 
Muhammdd),  leave  the  Divine  Ordinances  alone. 
Share  with  anot/ier  the  mouthful  thou  posscssest  ; 


THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS.  155 

Slander  not  another ;  seek  not  to  afflict  another's  heart ; 
I  promise  thee  the  world  to  come  !  —  Bring  wine  !  " 

Such  was  his  elastic  and  liberal  creed,  and  as  we 
have  said,  the  wine  of  which  he  sang  the  delights  in 
so  many  melodious  rhymes,  was  not  merely  the 
"daughter  of  the  grape,"  or  the  intoxicating-juice 
of  the  date-palm,  famous  for  a  thousand  years,  but 
it  stood  for  all  the  good  things  of  life,  which  the 
fanatic  and  hypocritical  would  forbid  others  to  enjoy. 

All  this  delectable  license,  which  might  go  so  far 
as  intoxication  and  kalendarism,  and  every  infraction 
of  the  law,  if  he  wished,  —  and  that  is  all  that  his 
most  audacious  quatrains  signify,  —  was  permissible 
to  him.  But  he  realized  very  well  that  the  wife 
who  once  went  behind  the  bronze-barred  gate  of  his 
house  would  have  to  be  his  prisoner,  as  it  were : 
the  Quran  compelled  each  husband  to  be  the  head 
of  a  petty  despotism  ;  would  not  the  graceful,  free- 
born  creature  pine  away  in  the  prison  of  the  high- 
walled  house  ?  It  was  a  tremendous  responsibility, 
and  the  more  he  thought  about  it,  the  more  he 
desired  the  girl,  and  the  less  he  desired  her  as  his 
wife.  He  expressed  the  thought  in  the  ruba'r : 

"  Be  wise,  for  the  means  of  life  are  uncertain  ~; 

In  (fancied)  security  sit  not,  for  the  sword  of  Fate  is  keen  ! 

If  Fortune  put  almond-sweets  in  thy  very  mouth 

Beware!  Swallow  them  not,  for  poison  is  mingled  therein."* 

1  E.  Heron-Allen's  version. 


156  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

He  knew  that  the  girl  would  give  herself  to  him 
soul  and  body ;  at  least  her  every  action  whispered 
that  to  his  heart.  But  Omar  was  too  true  and  too 
noble  a  man  to  take  advantage  of  the  beautiful  gift 
of  Agape's  love.  Stirred  as  he  had  been  to  the 
inmost  being  by  her  presence,  by  the  intoxication  of 
her  loveliness,  by  the  touch  of  her  hand,  and  the 
ravishing  sweetness  of  her  wine-like  lips,  he  had 
also  a  natural  delicacy,  as  modern  as  his  philosophy ; 
she  was  as  safe  with  him  as  she  would  have  been 
with  her  brother.  He  was  even  now  just  as  anxious 
as  ever  to  see  her  again,  but  mingled  with  this 
desire  was  the  cooler  thought  that  perhaps,  if  he 
did  not,  it  might  not  be  the  worst  thing  that  would 
happen  to  either  of  them.  She  was  enough  of  an 
inspiration  to  him  in  any  circumstances,  and  he 
composed  for  her  the  dlwan  or  book  of  verses  that 
he  had  promised.  Some  of  them  are  still  extant, 
though  now  arranged  in  all  manuscripts  in  the 
strange  alphabetic  sequence  conventional  with  Per 
sian  scribes.  One  can  read  in  them  the  odd  mixture 
of  passionate  love  and  calculating  philosophy  that 
occupied  his  thoughts  all  those  spring  and  summer 
days  when  Agap£  was  with  the  Court  at  Nishapur. 
For  instance  in  these,  selected  at  random : 

"  O  thou,  of  all  creation  the  chosen  part  to  me ; 

O  goodlier  than  eyesight,  and  soul  and  heart  to  me ! 


THE  JEALOUS  PRIESTS.  l$? 

There's  naught  than  life  more  precious,  O  idol  mine ;  and 

yet 
An  hundred  times  more  precious  than  life  thou  art  to  me ! 

"  Since  she,  for  whose  sweet  sake  my  heart  afire  's  become, 
Captive  herself  elsewhere  to  anguish  dire  's  become, 

Ah !  whither  shall  I  look  for  healing  of  my  pain, 
Since  she,  my  leach,  herself  sick  with  desire  's  become. 

"  If  the  ruby-lipped  fair  in  this  bosom  of  mine  is, 
Khizr's  water  outvied  by  the  juice  of  the  wine  is ; 

But  thou  Zuhreh  be  minstrel,  and  Jesus  be  mate, 
If  the  heart  's  not  in  presence,  no  gladness  in  wine  is." 

—  Translation  of  John  Payne. 


"  Last  night  upon  the  river  bank  we  lay, 
I  with  my  wine-cup  and  a  maiden  gay, 

So  bright  it  shone,  like  pearl  within  its  shell, 
The  watchman  cried,  '  Behold  the  break  of  day ! '  " 
—  Translation  of  Whinfield. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

A    PRESENTIMENT    OF    ILL. 

AGAPE  did  not  go  to  the  bust  an  on  the  clay  follow 
ing  her  visit  there  with  Omar.  The  messenger  that 
had  summoned  Omar  to  the  turquoise  mines  had 
previously  stopped  at  the  Arg  to  deliver  a  message 
and  to  get  fresh  horses.  A  chance  word  which  he 
dropped  as  to  his  purpose  in  coming  was  reported  in 
the  anderun,  and  Agape  therefore  got  her  warning 
and  stayed  sensibly  at  home.  She  however  resolved, 
woman-like,  to  torment  her  poet  a  little,  and  so  he 
heard  nothing  from  her  and  saw  her  not  for  several 
days.  She  received  through  Aga  Zalym  the  little 
scroll  containing  the  ruba'iyat,  and  though  she  was 
delighted  she  still  gave  no  sign.  Omar  naturally 
thought  that  she  was  offended  ;  he  still  supposed 
that  she  had  gone  to  the  meeting-place  and  failed  to 
find  him.  At  last,  not  liking  to  trust  writing  a  note, 
he  bethought  him  of  sending  her  a  single  quatrain. 
He  copied  delicately  on  a  bit  of  parchment  these 
lines  : 

158 


A   PRESENTIMENT  OF  ILL.  159 

"Joy,  for  loss  of  thee,  all  is  turned  to  sorrow; 
For  the  tristful  heart  is  no  glad  to-morrow  : 

With  thee  the  world's  bitter  I  was  wont  to  sweeten; 
'  Gainst  thy  loss's  bitter,  sweet  whence  shall  I  borrow  f  "  ' 

And  in  answer  to  this  came  the  long-expected  note 
saying  that  she  would  meet  him  on  the  second  day 
following  as  before.  And  now  the  Sultan's  order 
had  put  an  end  to  that !  Had  it  ?  Omar  suddenly 
recollected  that  the  warning  had  probably  reached 
Al-Hammar  in  time  and  that  in  any  event  the 
muhtesib  would  not  destroy  the  garden.  So  the 
next  afternoon  he  went  early  to  the  bustan.  Al- 
Hammar  met  him  with  a  rueful  countenance  and  re 
lated  in  a  style  as  flowery  as  ever  Persian  employed, 
how  on  the  previous  afternoon  a  mysterious  warning 
had  come  to  him  that  the  Mollahs  had  complained 
of  him  and  that  he  had  best  hide  all  signs  of  wine- 
selling.  He  had  deemed  it  advisable  to  heed  the 
warning  and  had  safely  conveyed  the  jars  of  precious 
wine  and  the  beautiful  cups  into  a  place  of  safety  and 
had  waited  with  a  clear  conscience  whatever  might 
happen.  He  had  hardly  completed  the  task  when 
the  muhtesib  and  his  minions  appeared  ;  but  as  they 
could  find  no  witnesses  or  any  proof  of  irregularity 
they  had  satisfied  themselves  with  simply  knocking 
down  the  old  fire  temple  that  had  stood  there  for  no 
one  knows  how  many  generations. 

1  Version  of  John  Payne. 


160  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

"  Shall  I  have  no  wine  then,  this  afternoon  ? " 
asked  Omar.  "  I  will  do  the  best  that  I  can  for  the 
crown  of  poets,"  replied  Al-Hammar,  "  but  all  the 
sakis  have  run  away,  fearing  lest  they  should  have 
to  walk  the  sky  with  the  soles  of  their  feet." 

Omar  laughed  at  this  graphic  way  of  expressing 
the  attitude  of  the  bastinado. 

"  I  will  see  that  a  jar  is  brought  to  your  pavilion. 
And  may  I  ask  if  you  expect  her?  For  of  all  the 
tulip-cheeked  maidens  that  breathe  the  rose-scented 
air  she  is  the  pearl." 

"  Truly  thou  art  an  admirable  judge,"  said  Omar 
with  another  laugh.  "  But  fail  not  with  a  jar  of  thy 
very  best  wine  and  —  how  about  sweets  ?  " 

"  I  will  send  in  for  her  a  patty  of  dates  and 
almonds ;  not  such  an  one  has  been  seen  since  the 
Parsis  emigrated." 

Like  many  another  man,  Omar,  remembering  his 
irresolution,  recognized  his  folly  in  playing  with  the 
dangerous  fire  of  love  ;  but  he  had  confidence  in  him 
self  that  he  could  stop  ere  it  reached  a  conflagration. 
He  went  to  his  pavilion  and  happily  found  it  un 
touched.  All  his  anxiety  had  been  for  naught ;  the 
uncompromising  Al-Ghazzali  had  been  foiled  and 
again  life  smiled,  even  as  the  day  itself  smiled. 
Smiled  ?  It  would  rather  be  called  a  laughing  day ; 
everything  was  full  of  cheer ;  the  air  was  soft  and 
yet  bracing  ;  the  breeze  tossed  the  leaves  of  all  the 


A   PRESENTIMENT  OF  ILL.  l6l 

trees  and  sent  bright  butterflies  whirling  away  as  if 
it  were  chasing  rose-leaves.  The  little  waves  on  the 
river  laughed  aloud  with  glee.  Omar  sat  on  a  thick  felt 
by  the  arched  door  and  drank  in  all  the  beauty  of  the 
scene.  He  thought  of  the  delight  in  store  for  him  if 
Agape  should  come  ;  at  the  same  time  there  mingled 
with  his  anticipation  the  doubt  as  to  the  outcome  of 
it  all.  As  usual  with  him  his  thought  took  the  form 
of  a  ruba'if :  one  with  rhymes  at  the  beginning  as  well 
as  at  the  end  : 

"  Old  am  /,  yet  my  love  for  thee  has  led  me  to  the  snare; 
How  comes  it  else  that  in  my  hand  the  cup  of  wine  I  bear  ? 
My  mistress  has  destroyed  the  -vow  that  I  to  Reason  sware  ; 
And  passing  days  have  rent  the  robe  I  sewed  with  patient 
care" 

He  had  hardly  completed  the  last  rhyme  when  his 
heart  and  eyes  at  once  told  him  that  Agape  was  there 
once  more.  Once  again  there  was  the  graceful  little 
coquettish  battle  over  the  veil  which  Omar  soon  car 
ried  by  assault.  Again  the  diplomatic  parley  over 
the  terms  of  surrender  and  the  payment  of  the  in 
demnity  :  in  other  words  the  fulfilment  of  the  bar 
gain  for  the  ruba'iyat.  And  Omar,  who  only  a  few 
short  days  before  was  contentedly  counting  the  stars 
and  calculating  the  revolutions  of  the  planets,  was 
now,  like  a  schoolboy,  counting  the  kisses  that  Agape 
let  him  give  and  take.  How  strange  life  is  and  man  ! 


1 62  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Even  with  the  girl's  sweet  breath  in  his  nostrils  his 
heart  was  saying  : 

"  Blame  me  not  if  I  act  like  a  fool, 
For  once  more  am  I  intoxicated  with  the  wine  of  love" 

Al-Hammar  showed  himself  a  master  of  circum 
stances  :  what  would  the  Mollahs  have  said  if  they 
had  chanced  to  surprise  their  enemy  as  he  sat  in  the 
rose-scented  pavilion  with  the  beautiful  maiden  con- 
tary  to  the  Quran  unveiled  and  —  horror  of  horrors ! 
—  occasionally  sipping  the  musk-scented  wine  and 
nibbling  daintily  at  the  deljciously  broiled  partridge 
that  the  tavern-keeper  sent  in  after  they  had  enjoyed 
the  date-and-almond  confection  ?  Again  the  swift- 
winged  hours  flew  over  their  heads  and  the  summer 
wind  died  down  and  the  sunset  splendors  lighted 
up  the  sky  and  clothed  the  stern  distant  mountains 
in  the  purple  robes  of  royalty.  The  moon  was  full 
that  night  and  Agape,  trusting  to  her  Greek  cunning, 
yielded  to  Omar's  entreaties  to  remain  till  it  should 
pour  its  silvery  flood  through  the  valley. 

And  as  they  sat  there  floating  down  on  the  swift 
current  of  time  in  the  light  bark  of  love  Omar  asked 
Agape  if  she  could  be  content  to  live  the  shut-in  life 
of  a  Farsl  woman  ;  if  they  were  married  there  could 
be  no  more  delightful  meetings  by  the  river;  the 
conventions  would  be  too  strong  for  even  them  to 
overcome  them. 


A   PRESENTIMENT  OF  ILL.  163 

"  But  why  not  come  with  me  to  Athens  ? "  asked 
Agape\ 

"  I  could  not  leave  my  old  mother,"  said  Omar. 
"  Besides,  how  could  we  live  in  Athens  ?  " 

"  No,  I  should  not  like  to  live  as  the  Persian  women 
do,"  said  Agape,  "but  let  us  not  think  any  more 
of  these  disagreeable  things  ;  it  is  enough  for  to-night 
to  be  alive  and  hear  the  nightingale  sing.  Listen  !  " 

"  This  is  what  it  seems  to  say  to  me,"  whispered 
Omar  : 

"  '  Khayyam,  if  thou' rt  drunken  with  wine,  be  content ! * 
If  thou  with  thy  tulip-cheeked  love  dost  recline,  be  content  / 
Since  out  of  the  world  into  naught  thou  wilt  soon  pass  away, 
Imagine  non-being  already  is  thine  /  Be  content  / ' ' 

."That  is  another  melancholy  quatrain,  O  my 
poet,"  exclaimed  Agape. 

"  But  is  not  the  nightingale  melancholy,  Agape  ? 
Listen  to  the  long-drawn  cadences,  so  full  of  passion 
and  of  sadness.  Infinite  passion,  infinite  pain  !  It  is 
the  song  of  a  soul  that  was  once  a  loving  woman  and 
who  was  separated  from  her  love !  " 

"Oh,  but  I  love  it,"  exclaimed  Agape.  "No,  I 
will  shut  my  eyes  to  the  trouble  that  may  come  to 
morrow,  that  will  come  to-night  when  I  must  return 
to  my  slavery  !  " 

"  Agape,  I  too  love  the  beauty  of  it  all !     See  the 

1  Hush-bash,  literally,  "  pleasant  or  beautiful  be." 


1 64  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

full  moon  just  rising  over  the  mountain-tops,  how 
huge,  and  round  ;  that  moon,  Agap£,  will  look  down 
into  this  garden  when  we  are  dust !  Our  feet  tread 
on  the  dust  of  lovers  like  ourselves.  See,  I  cast  a 
cup  of  wine  on  the  dust !  Perhaps  it  will  soak  down 
and  bring  comfort  to  the  lovers  whose  dust  mingles 
with  the  rose-leaves  of  a  thousand  years ! " 

Sometimes  there  comes  to  one  even  in  the  midst 
of  joy  the  presentiment  of  approaching  misfortune. 
Agap£  knew  that  such  a  presentiment  was  lurking  in 
her  inmost  heart.  She  tried  to  explain  it  to  herself 
by  attributing  it  to  the  cadences  of  the  nightingale 
which,  perched  on  a  neighboring  rose-bush,  was  still 
pouring  out  his  whole  soul,  to  the  melancholy  turn 
that  Omar's  poem  had  given  to  her  thoughts,  to  the 
soft  languor  of  the  evening.  She  had  come  with  the 
full  intention  of  telling  Omar  how  precarious  her 
position  at  Court  was  growing  to  be.  She  had  hinted 
at  something  of  the  sort  in  her  first  note  to  him, 
which  she  had  written  with  an  inspiration  born  of 
despair.  But  she  saw  as  well  as  Omar  saw  that  she 
could  never  be  content,  dearly  as  she  loved  him,  to 
immure  herself  "behind  the  veil." 

To  tell  the  truth,  Agape,  like  Omar  himself,  was 
in  advance  of  her  own  day.  Her  peculiar  education, 
under  the  direct  care  of  her  father,  had  given  her  in 
sight  into  many  things  which  were  hidden  from  the 
women  of  her  own  country,  and  still  more  so  from 


A    PRESENTIMENT  OF  ILL.  165 

the  women  of  Persia.  There  are  always  such  women, 
there  have  always  been  such  men,  and  generally  they 
have  suffered  in  consequence.  They  may  have  had 
a  philosophy  to  help  them  withstand  the  sorrows  of 
their  isolation,  but  it  was  none  the  less  real.  This 
exceptional  understanding  on  the  part  of  Agape  was 
what  attracted  Omar  to  her,  no  less  than  her  excep 
tional  beauty.  This  exceptional  beauty  was  of  a 
type  that  fortunately  did  not  appeal  to  the  passions 
of  the  Sultan,  who,  as  we  have  said,  belonged  to  the 
Seljuk  Turks,  and,  though  a  man  of  unusual  breadth 
of  view,  nevertheless,  or  perhaps  in  consequence 
thereof,  conformed  in  his  appreciation  of  female 
charms  to  the  ideal  generally  worshipped  by  the 
Turanian  race  :  a  good  broad  back  and  what  Brown 
ing  calls  "the  breast's  superb  abundance,  where  a 
man  might  base  his  head ;  "  in  other  words,  obesity  \ 
attracted  him  more  than  the  slender,  graceful  Greek 
type  of  which  Agapd  was  such  a  perfect  example. 
That  explains  why,  though  she  had  been  at  his  Court 
so  long,  he  had  scarcely  noticed  her,  and  why  he  had 
filled  the  regulation  quota  of  his  wives  with  women 
of  another  kind. 

But  Agape  was  tired  of  remaining  as  a  hostage 
and  she  had  made  up  her  mind  that  she  would  go 
back  to  Athens  and  seek  her  father,  if  he  were  still 
living.  This  desire  had  been  growing  in  her  heart 
long  before  Malikshah  left  Marv ;  it  was  an  almost 


1 66  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

impossible  undertaking  for  a  young  maiden,  delicate 
and  beautiful  as  she  was,  to  make  that  terrible  jour 
ney,  even  if  she  could  have  escaped  from  the  anderun. 
The  Agcl  Zalym,  who  was  especially  appointed  to 
serve  her  as  well  as  watch  over  her,  she  had  suc 
ceeded  in  winning  as  her  faithful  slave  ;  he  would  do 
anything  for  her,  within  reason,  and  that  explains 
how  she  was  able  to  meet  Omar.  Zalym  was  not 
far  away,  and  as  long  as  she  did  not  try  to  escape 
entirely  she  was  comparatively  free. 

When  she  first  saw  Omar,  the  passionate  love  at 
first  sight  which  the  Persian  poets  from  Firdaus! 
down  are  ever  singing,  took  possession  of  her  heart. 
When  she  found  that  the  poet  was  the  friend  of 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  the  favorite  of  Malfkshah,  a  wild 
hope  seized  her  that  at  last  she  might  escape:  she 
even  went  so  far  as  to  plan  the  way  of  it.  But  when 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  asked  her  to  come  to  Omar's  favorite 
garden  and  dance  for  them,  she  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  the  thing,  as  she  always  did.  She  was  a 
true  Greek,  fond  of  new  things,  gay  and  merry,  with 
all  sorts  of  ideas  rioting  in  her  pretty  head,  —  and  hav 
ing  found  the  way  there  once,  it  was  easy  to  go 
again.  Meantime,  she,  like  Omar,  had  thought  over 
all  the  inconveniences  of  actual  marriage  and  she  re 
solved  to  see  what  time  would  bring  forth.  Perhaps 
she  might  persuade  him,  if  he  loved  her  as  she 
thought  he  did,  to  dress  her  as  a  servant  and  thus 


A   PRESENTIMENT  OF  ILL.  1 6? 

make  with  her  the  long  journey  to  Byzantium,  if 
necessary. 

She  knew  well  enough  that  she  could  not  long 
keep  up  the  clandestine  meetings  with  Omar  at  the 
bustan.  It  might  be  done  twice,  but  the  prying  eyes 
of  the  hangers-on  would  soon  detect  it.  It  occurred 
to  her  to  ask  Omar  to  intercede  for  her  with  Nizam- 
u'l-Mulk,  but  it  was  a  delicate  business :  a  stranger, 
even  though  he  were  a  friend,  could  hardly  interfere 
with  such  matters  without  causing  suspicion ;  and 
unless  Omar  was  really  to  take  her  as  his  wife,  that 
was  impracticable. 

It  may  have  been  this  uncertainty  that  caused  the 
shadow  to  grow  deeper  over  Agape's  mind  till  she 
could  hardly  throw  it  off.  It  was  like  the  little  cloud 
that  gathers  round  the  moon  at  midnight.  A  few 
moments  before  the  moon  is  shining  in  untroubled 
splendor ;  then  the  light  halo  clings  to  the  beautiful 
orb  and  saddens  the  light ;  before  many  minutes  have 
past,  the  moon  is  quite  hidden ;  a  cool  wind  blows 
and  a  feeling  of  depression  seems  to  pass  over  the 
whole  landscape ;  within  an  hour  the  rain  begins  to 
fall.  So  it  was  with  Agape1. 

She  suddenly  sprang  up,  threw  her  arms  around 
Omar's  neck,  and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears.  Now 
if  there  is  any  one  thing  that  disturbs  the  equanimity 
of  a  man's  spirits  it  is  to  have  a  woman,  the  woman 
whom  he  loves,  weeping  bitterly.  Omar  was  wholly 


1 68  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

unused  to  such  a  phenomenon,  but  he  gathered  the 
girl  into  his  arms  and  tried  to  soothe  her  as  he  would 
have  soothed  a  trembling  nightingale.  He  patted 
her  cheek  and  smoothed  her  curly  hair ;  he  kissed 
away  the  tears  and  asked  in  a  caressing  voice  what 
was  the  matter. 

"  Oh,  I  want  my  father !  And  I  want  to  see  the 
moonlight  dimpling  the  sea  !  "  she  sobbed.  "  And  I 
thought  that  you  would  take  me  away,  —  away  to 
Athens,  anywhere  away  from  the  desert  and  from 
Persia! " 

Then  a  frightened  look  came  into  her  eyes  and  she 
said  in  a  lower  voice  : 

"  Oh,  I  have  felt  all  the  evening  that  something 
terrible  is  going  to  happen  !  It  seems  to  me  as  if  this 
were  our  last  evening  together !  I  don't  want  to  go 
from  thee  and  yet  I  must.  It  is  too  late  ;  I  must  go  !  " 

Omar  could  feel  how  her  little  heart  was  beating, 
fluttering  as  from  the  effect  of  fright.  Again  he 
tried  to  soothe  her  : 

He  said :  "  Agape",  my  idol,  my  darling,  my 
lala  rukh,  do  not  weep ;  I  will  do  anything  for  thee. 
I  will  take  thee  to  my  house,  and  when  my  aged 
mother  is  no  more,  then  I  will  go  with  thee  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth.  My  bright-eyed  Agapd !  trust 
me !  And  now  cheer  up !  See,  the  little  cloud  has 
gone  from  the  face  of  the  moon  :  it  shines  again  in 
all  her  glory.  And  remember,  Agape", 


HE    GATHERED    THE    GIRL    INTO    HIS    ARMS. 


A    PRESENTIMENT  OF  ILL.  169 

"  Do  not  allow  sorrow  to  embrace  thee, 
Nor  an  idle  grief  to  occupy  thy  days,  for 
Thou  hast  no  power  over  the  morrow, 
And  anxiety  over  the  morrow  is  useless  to  thee"  * 

The  sweet  rhythm  and  the  fall  of  the  rhymes  of 
these  couplets,  dast  rasi  qarda  nist  and  marda  nist, 
fell  like  music  on  Agape's  ear. 

"  You  are  strong  and  wise  ;  I  am  weak  and  fool 
ish,"  she  said,  "  and  it  is  impossible  that  you  should 
love  me ! " 

"  Nay,  not  impossible,  for  it  is  true  !  "  said  Omar. 

"  But  I  hear  Aga  Zalym's  whistle.  He  is  getting 
anxious  ;  he  will  be  cross.  I  must  go.  Even  now 
we  may  not  be  able  to  pass  the  gate." 

"  Then  one  more  kiss  and  two  and  seven,  for  seven 
is  a  sacred  number  —  and  when  wilt  thou  come 
again  ? " 

"  As  soon  as  may  be.  But  oh,  I  feel  that  we  may 
never  meet  again  !  " 

"  Do  not  worry,  Agape." 

The  next  instant  she  was  gone. 

1  Translation  of  E.  Heron  Allen. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

HASAN    THE   TEMPTER. 

THE  monotony  of  female  wearing  apparel  in  the 
*  East  is  favorable  to  intrigue.  Hidden  completely  in 
a  loose  indigo-dyed  chuddar,  and  closely  veiled,  with 
loose,  baggy  pantaloons,  one  woman  differs  from 
another  not  in  glory,  but  in  size  or  height.  But 
nothing  escaped  the  watchful  attention  of  Hasan 
ben  Sabah.  He  was  attracted  by  Agape's  graceful 
gait,  which  her  costume  could  not  wholly  disguise. 
There  seemed  to  lurk  some  mystery  about  her  and 
he  determined  to  penetrate  it.  He  saw  that  Aga 
Zaiym  must  know  about  her  and  at  the  first  oppor 
tunity  he  addressed  the  tall  eunuch. 

"  Who  is  the  woman  ? "  he  asked,  fixing  his  keen, 
compelling  eye  on  Zalym's. 

"  She  is  the  hostage,"  replied   Zalym,    evasively, 
yet  truthfully. 

"What  hostage?" 

"  The  Princess  Agape." 

"  Did  I  not  see  her  on  the  mountain  ?  " 
170 


HASAN  THE    TEMPTER.  1 7 1 

"  It  would  be  presuming  in  me  to  tell  you  what 
you  saw  on  the  mountain." 

With  this  Aga  Zalym  was  turning  away ;  but 
Hasan  was  not  a  man  to  be  so  baffled. 

"  Wait !  "  he  said. 

The  eunuch  turned  back. 

"  I  saw  her  come  in." 

"  Shak  nist  —  no  doubt." 

"  Are  the  ladies  of  the  anderun  in  the  habit  of 
wandering  about  the  city  at  all  hours  ?  " 

"  Khoda  mi-danad  u  bas  —  God  only  knows." 

Hasan  began  to  grow  angry. 

"  Nar  ja  ki  pari  vash-i'st,  div-i  ba  u'st  — wherever 
a  Peri-like  beauty  is  there  also  is  a  devil,"  he  mut 
tered,  "  and  I  believe  you  are  the  devil  that  accom 
panies  that  hostage  of  yours.  There  is  something 
wrong  about  it." 

The  Aga  Zalym  delayed  no  longer,  but  went  away 
muttering  under  his  breath.  He  intended  to  submit 
to  no  impertinent  inquisition  into  his  affairs. 

But  Hasan  was  made  only  the  more  curious  by 
Zalym's  replies.  He  bade  his  son  keep  a  sharp 
watch  on  the  movements  of  the  Aga,  and  if  he  should 
see  him  accompany  a  woman  who  went  out  otherwise 
alone,  he  was  quietly  and  secretly  to  follow  them  and 
report  where  they  went. 

It  so  happened  therefore  that  Ostad-ben-Hasan 
had  followed  Agape  to  the  bustan,  and  though  he  had 


OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

not  been  a  witness  to  the  meeting  of  Omar  and  the 
girl,  he  had  lingered  round  the  garden  long  enough 
to  see  Omar  follow  her  back  to  the  city.  He  was 
therefore  able  to  give  his  father  a  tolerable  idea  of 
the  intrigue,  for  such  Hasan  ben  Sabah  supposed  it 
to  be.  He  was  selfish  enough  to  think  that  what 
was  good  enough  for  the  poet  was  good  enough  for 
the  mace-bearer  and  treasurer,  and  he  was  malicious 
enough  to  take  pleasure  in  trying  to  forestall  his  old 
friend.  But  first  he  thought  he  would  find  what  he 
might  learn  from  Omar  himself.  He  regarded  it  as 
perfectly  possible  that  by  flattery  and  an  appearance 
of  disinterested  friendship  he  might  lead  Omar  to 
confide  in  him. 

Accordingly  the  next  morning  he  directed  his  steps 
to  the  poet's  home.  He  found  Omar  in  his  little 
garden,  busy  with  certain  calculations  in  regard  to 
an  eclipse  of  the  moon.  The  poet-astronomer  caught 
sight  of  Hasan  ben  Sabah  and  hastened  to  meet 
him. 

"  This  is  indeed  an  honor  and  a  surprise  !  "  he  ex 
claimed.  "  Since  the  mysterious  disappearance  of 
your  Circassian  whom  you  left  in  my  mother's  care, 
I  had  supposed  my  house  stood  in  disgrace  with 
you." 

"That  Circassian  woman  was  ungrateful  to  me!" 
said  Hasan,  with  a  lowering  brow.  "  After  all  I  had 
done  for  her  and  the  risks  I  had  run,  she  deserted 


HASAN  THE    TEMPTER.  1/3 

me  at  the  first  opportunity.     Do  you  know  the  doom 
that  Allah  prepares  for  such  ingrates  ? " 

"  Nay,"  said  Omar,  "  Allah  has  never  taken  me 
into  his  counsels,  but  I  will  give  you  a  poem  that 
expresses  my  feelings  in  regard  to  all  such  matters  : 

r"  To  make  but  few  friends  in  this  life,  I  advise. 
Hold  aloof  from  the  men  of  your  time  and  be  wise. 
The  man  thou  art  bound  to  by  closest  of  ties 
Is  the  foe  when  wisdom  uncloseth  thine  eyes."  x 

"  I  should  not  have  supposed,"  remarked  Hasan, 
"  that  a  poet  who  was  always  so  fond  of  beauty  and 
of  society,  should  become  so  pessimistic." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  said  Omar,  "I  am  not  a  pes 
simist.  I  simply  look  on  life  as  it  is.  I  am  happy  ; 
I  am  content.  Pessimists  are  not  happy.  I  make 
no  complaint,  so  long  as  I  can  get  my  occasional  cup 
of  wine." 

"  But  are  you  not  afraid  of  losing  paradise  by  dis 
obeying  the  commands  of  the  Prophet  ?  " 

"  No,  why  should  I  be  ?  Allah  is  all-merciful ; 
mercy  is  not  for  those  who  do  not  sin  ;  but  for  those 

1  Another  version,  which  almost  reproduces  the  quadruple  rhymes 
dust,  tagust,  tarust,  and  ust,  might  read  this  way : 

"  To  make  but  few  friends  as  thou  livest  is  best ; 
Hold  aloof  from  the  men  of  thy  time  is  my  hest ; 
The  one  whom  thou  takest  most  close  to  thy  breast 
Is  proven  thy  foe  when  he's  put  to  the  test." 
Literally,  "  when  thou  openest  the  eyes  of  wisdom." 


174  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

that  break  the  law,  else  would  not  Allah  be  merciful. 
Besides,  at  the  very  beginning,  nay,  before  creation  it 
was  written  that  I  should  drink  and  Allah  knew  that 
I  should  drink ;  if  such  was  Allah's  wisdom  I  should 
turn  it  into  folly  by  not  drinking." 

"  You  are  blasphemous,"  exclaimed  Hasan. 

"  Not  so,"  replied  Omar,  laughing  slightly  ;  "  what 
says  Muhammad's  great  throne  verse :  '  There  is  no 
God  beside  Him,  t/ie  Living,  the  Immovable  !  He  is 
never  a  prey  to  slumber  nor  to  sleep.  Whatever  is  in 
the  heavens,  and  whatever  is  in  the  earth  is  His. 
Who  shall  plead  with  Him,  save  by  His  leave  f  He 
knoweth  what  was  before  tts  and  what  shall  come  after 
us,  and  we  may  not  grasp  His  knowledge,  save  what 
He  willeth'  Besides,  if  wine  is  good  in  paradise,  why 
is  it  not  even  better  now  ?  For  we  are  here  and  we 
may  not  be  in  paradise.  Muhammdd,  as  you  know, 
promised  that  we  should  recline,  —  only  a  few  of  us, 
mind  you, — adorned  with  bracelets  of  gold  and  clad 
in  green  garments  of  fine  brocade,  should  recline  on 
inlaid  couches,  while  immortal  damsels  with  eyes  like 
pearls  should  move  among  us  with  cups  and  jars  and 
flowing  wine !  But  as  I  shall  ever  say  :  '  Give  me 
the  present  money ;  you  may  have  the  promise  to 
pay.' 

"  I  know  not  whether  He  who  made  me  destined 
me  for  heaven  or  hell,  but  I  am  happy  if  I  have  a 
mouthful  of  food,  and  my  sweetheart  and  a  cup  of 


HASAN   THE    TEMPTER.  1 75 

wine  on  the  green  bank,  near  the  river.  You  may 
have  heaven  for  all  me !  Besides,  I  am  convinced 
that  though  wine  is  forbidden,  it  depends  on  who 
drinks  it  and  how  much  one  drinks  and  with  whom 
one  drinks  ;  so  I  should  like  to  know  who  should 
drink  wine  if  not  the  philosopher  ?  Now  won't  you 
have  a  cup  of  wine  ?  " 

Hasan  shook  his  head. 

Omar,  who  was  fond  of  shocking  the  ultra-pious, 
went  on : 

"  I  have  given  orders  that  when  I  die  my  corpse  is 
to  be  bathed  in  wine  and  I  am  to  be  buried  in  a  coffin 
made  of  the  vine,  and  I  have  written  a  ruba'i'  —  nay, 
I  have  written  a  whole  dlwan  of  ruba'iyat  in  praise  of 
wine.  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  hear  some  of  them 
if  you  will  not  drink  with  me." 

Omar,  without  waiting  for  Hasan's  assent,  began  to 
repeat  some  of  those  delicious  quatrains  in  which  he 
rings  the  changes  on  the  blessings  of  drunkenness, 
the  pleasure  of  wine,  that  destroys  all  the  sorrows  of 
life,  the  dregs  of  a  single  draught  being  better  than 
the  whole  heavenly  vault,  a  cup  of  wine  worth  more 
than  a  hundred  hearts  and  faiths,  a  single  draught 
more  than  the  empire  of  China  (memleket  Chin),  and 
ending  with  the  ruba'Y  where  he  wishes  to  be  buried 
near  the  tavern,  that  the  fumes  from  his  body  like 
pure  spirit  may  intoxicate  the  boon  companions  as 
they  pass. 


1/6  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

When  he  had  finished  Hasan  ben  Sabah  with  a 
sneering  smile  said  : 

"  They  are  very  smooth  and  cleverly  rhymed  ;  but 
I  will  make  a  prediction  ;  you  may  shock  the  senti 
ment  of  the  Faithful  as  much  as  you  will ;  but  the 
time  will  come  when,  if  these  ribald  verses  survive, 
they  will  do  no  harm  ;  because  the  Sflfis,  who  even 
now  interpret  Firdaust  to  suit  themselves,  will  find 
that  you  mean  by  wine,  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  by 
drunkenness  the  intoxication  of  union  with  the  One 
Spirit  that  fills  the  universe." 

There  was  a  subtle  flavor  of  flattery  in  Hasan's 
words,  and  Omar  felt  it.  He  laughed. 

"  Thou  hast  spilt  my  rose-red  wine  on  the  ground, 
Rabbi,"  he  said,  quoting  from  one  of  the  protesting 
quatrains. 

"  But  tell  me,  most  learned  Omar,  why,  when  you 
praise  the  delight  of  sitting  at  the  edge  of  the  desert 
or  beside  the  flowing  stream,  with  an  idol  fairer 
than  the  Hur  of  paradise,  tell  me,  how  is  it  that  you 
have  not  — 

Hasan  hesitated,  thinking  how  best  to  put  his 
impertinent  question,  and  Omar,  seeing  his  drift, 
anticipated  him  : 

"Again  I  have  the  best  of  authority  for  praising 
the  pleasures  of  the  garden  and  the  flowing  stream 
and  the  fair  maid.  What  says  our  sacred  book  ? 
'  For  him  that  feareth  the  majesty  of  his  Lord  shall 


HASAN   THE    TEMPTER.  1/7 

be  two  gardens  with  o'erarching  trees  and  with  two 
flowing  wells,  therein  palm  and  pomegranate,  and 
the  best  and  comeliest  maids,  with  flashing  eyes, 
dwelling  in  tents,  man  nor  Jinnt  hath  not  touched 
them,  and  they  recline  on  green  cushions  and 
beautiful  carpets. ' ' 

Hasan  found  that  he  was  not  making  much  prog 
ress  toward  the  knowledge  that  he  wished  to  obtain. 
He  persisted  in  his  matrimonial  drift. 

"  Now  that  the  Sultan  has  enriched  you,  there 
should  be  no  reason  for  you  not  to  marry.  You 
remember  what  Muhammad  said  :  '  Marry,  those 
of  you  who  are  single.  .  .  .  And  let  those  who  cannot 
find  a  match  live  in  chastity,  till  Allah  of  his  bounty 
shall  enrich  them.' ' 

"  Why  should  you  care,  O  Hasan  ben  Sabah, 
whether  I  marry  or  not  ? " 

"  Because  I,  as  your  old  friend,  am  concerned  to 
see  you  out  of  the  right  path." 

"  You  are  very  kind  ;  but  how  would  marriage 
put  me  in  the  right  path  ?  If  I  should  marry,  my 
studies  would  be  interrupted.  My  mother  suffices 
to  keep  my  house ;  I  have  no  need  of  a  wife." 

"  But  think  of  the  dangers  that  you  run.  Have 
you  not  been  carousing  under  the  roof  of  that  now 
ruined  atash  kadah  ?  How  about  the  hostage  ?  " 

Hasan  asked  this  question  in  a  lower  but  intense 
voice,  and  watched  its  effect  on  Omar.  Of  course 


178  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

it  was  a  tentative  attack.  But  Omar  was  not  to  be 
surprised.  He  realized  too  thoroughly  that  Agap£'s 
happiness,  her  very  life  depended  perhaps  on  his 
self-possession.  He  saw  that  he  must  be  wary. 
How  much  did  Hasan  really  know  ?  Had  misfor 
tune  befallen  Agape1  on  her  return  to  the  Arg  ?  Had 
she  been  found  out  ?  All  these  questions  rushed 
through  his  mind  even  while,  with  the  greatest 
apparent  coolness,  he  was  looking  Hasan  square  in 
the  eye. 

"Whether  I  carouse  or  do  not  carouse  at  the 
tavern,  —  what  is  that  to  you?  Do  you  follow  Al- 
Ghazzali  in  his  persecutions  ?  What  had  Al-Ham- 
mar  done  to  him  ? " 

"  So  then  you  know  the  tavern-keeper  ? " 

"  Know  the  jovial  Al-Hammar  ?  Of  course  I 
do,  and  if  you  had  been  wise  enough  to  join 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  me  the  other  afternoon,  you,  too, 
would  have  learned  to  value  his  reflections.  No 
one  in  Nishapflr  can  compare  with  him." 

Hasan  could  not  fail  to  perceive  that  it  was  hope 
less  to  win  Omar's  confidence.  He  had  thought 
himself  wiser  than  he  was  ;  his  great  fault,  lack  of 
tact,  he  saw  still  stood  in  his  way.  He  suddenly 
rose  from  the  felt  on  which  he  had  been  sitting,  and 
looking  at  the  sun,  declared  that  he  must  not  longer 
stay  ;  he  had  many  things  to  do. 

"  I  have  already  accomplished  my  task,"  he  said, 


HASAN   THE    TEMPTER.  1 79 

somewhat  boastfully.  "  'Tis  only  three  weeks  since 
the  Sultan  commissioned  me  to  make  out  the 
budget ;  it  is  all  done." 

"  Ma  sh'  Allah  !  "  exclaimed  Omar,  with  a  slight 
intonation  of  irony.  "  Such  energy  was  never 
before  known  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Not  even 
Isfendiyar,  son  of  Gushtasp,  of  whose  exploits  we 
read  in  the  Shah-nama,  accomplished  so  much  in 
so  short  a  time.  It  was  only  yesterday  that  the 
great  Sultan  issued  his  decree,  and  gave  you  the 
power.  The  Heft-khan  will  henceforth  become  the 
Bist-khan,  —  the  seven  labors,  the  thousand  labors. 
Verily,  I  bow  before  you,  greatest  of  men ! " 

It  was  evident  that  Hasan  took  Omar's  sarcasm 
as  genuine  flattery. 

"  Omar,"  he  said,  "  I  have  always  admired  your 
perspicacity.  I  want  you  now  to  listen  to  me.  I 
am  on  the  path  to  greater  things  than  you  can 
dream  of.  When  I  was  in  Egypt,  I  was  taught  to 
read  the  future.  By  turning  my  eyes  inward,  and 
holding  my  breath  a  moment,  I  can  see  what  hap 
pens  beyonds  the  mountains.  And  I  see  the  future, 
dimly  as  yet,  dimly,  but  each  time  with  greater  clear 
ness.  I  see  myself  a  great  monarch,  thousands  at 
my  call.  God  is  great,  and  I  am  his  servant.  I 
feel  certain  that  he  will  lift  me  to  a  supreme  posi 
tion.  Omar,  join  me,  and  with  your  intellect  we 
can  yet  put  an  end  to  this  race  of  stupid  Turks. 


180  OMAR    THE    ThXTMAKEK. 

We  are  Persians,  and  our  race  is  as  superior  to 
theirs  as  the  sun  is  superior  to  Saturn,  or  as  the 
Himalyas  are  superior  to  Sinai !  Give  me  your 
hand,  with  me  you  will  go  far.  I  will  disclose  to 
you  my  plan.  You  will  see  how  satisfactory  it  is. 
And  I  know  that  I  shall  succeed.  Shall  I  show  you 
how  I  can  see  what  is  beyond  your  ken  ?  I  can 
teach  you  to  do  the  same.  You  shut  your  eyes, 
thus !  Then  shut  your  mouth,  and  press  your  tongue 
against  the  roof  of  your  mouth,  hold  your  breath  ; 
occupy  your  heart  with  the  idea  of  Allah  most  mer 
ciful.  Pronounce  la  upwards ;  pronounce  ilaha  to 
the  right  on  the  pine  cone  ;  that  is  the  point  of  the 
heart ;  then,  keep  saying  mentally,  la  ilaha  ilia  lldh. 
Now  I  will  do  it  for  you,  that  you  may  see  that  I 
speak  the  truth." 

Omar  scarcely  knew  what  to  make  of  such  a  rig 
marole  ;  but  he  watched  Hasan  with  curiosity  min 
gled  with  a  strange  sort  of  contempt.  Nevertheless 
what  followed  was  strange  enough.  Hasan,  who 
had  shut  his  eyes  and  grown  suddenly  silent,  now 
lost  all  the  color  from  his  face ;  his  muscles  seemed 
to  grow  rigid  ;  Omar  thought  he  had  fainted. 

Suddenly  in  a  changed  voice  he  began  once 
more  to  speak  rapidly,  and  with  impassioned  elo 
quence. 

"  Allah  most  bountiful,  Allah  most  compassionate, 
to  thee  alone  be  all  the  glory !  Thy  hand  has 


If  ASA  A?   THE    TEMPTEX.  l8l 

lifted  me  and  sustained  me.  Through  thee  I  am 
what  I  am  !  Now  once  more  heed  my  prayer !  Send 
thine  angel  to  enlighten  me !  Already  I  hear  the 
rush  of  his  eagle  wings  !  His  voice  rings  in  my 
ears!  Speak!  What  is  thy  message?  Speak." 

Hasan  started  as  if  into  a  listening  attitude ;  then, 
in  a  moment,  he  went  on  : 

"  I  understand  ;  thy  servant  thanks  thee  for  the 
message.  He  will  obey." 

Then  addressing  Omar,  he  said  : 

"  Ask  any  question  that  thou  wilt  ;  I  am  permitted 
to  answer  it." 

Omar,  supposing  the  whole  thing  was  a  sort  of 
comedy,  although  there  was  something  uncanny 
about  it,  said  : 

"  Well,  most  mysterious  of  friends,  tell  me,  is  the 
world  round  ? " 

To  his  amazement,  Hasan's  reply  exactly  coincided 
with  his  own  conjecture  : 

"  Yea,  verily  the  world  is  round  and  the  time  shall 
come  when  the  doctrines  of  Islam  shall  he  heard  by 
those  the  soles  of  whose  feet  are  flat  to  ours." 

"  What  is  going  on  at  the  palace  ? "  asked  Omar, 
with  a  sort  of  fascination  drawn  to  imagine  that  he 
might  hear  something  even  of  Agape. 

"  I  see  a  fair  maiden  in  the  anderun  ;  she  weeps, 
and  calls  for  her  father.  What  she  speaks  is  not 
Persian.  It  is  the  hostage  !  " 


1 82  OMAK    THE    TENTMAKEK. 

"  Tell  me  more  of  her,"  exclaimed  Omar,  forget 
ting  prudence. 

"  She  sits  apart  from  the  others ;  the  tall  Ag& 
Zalym  stands  near  her.  Ah !  and  methinks  I  see 
afar,  yes,  very  far  away,  beyond  the  mountains,  a 
man  who  looks  in  this  direction  ;  yes,  it  is  her  father. 
He  has  been  long  ill,  but  he  is  preparing  to  come  to 
her.  Oh,  it  is  far  away  in  another  city,  where  I  see 
no  masjj'd,  no  minarets,  and  no  tiled  houses,  but 
white  marble  buildings." 

Omar  felt  the  cold  chills  run  down  his  back ;  it 
seemed  impossible  that  Hasan  could  be  making  up 
such  a  story,  and  yet  there  seemed  to  be  so  little  in 
what  he  said. 

"  I  see  my  own  castle,"  Hasan  went  on,  suddenly 
changing  entirely  the  trend  of  his  discourse;  "'tis 
high  up  on  the  mountain-side.  I  am  king  there  ;  I 
hold  such  state  as  these  Seljuks  never  dreamed  of. 
They  pay  tribute  to  me." 

There  was  more  of  the  same  sort,  sometimes 
rambling  and  disconnected,  but  evidently  the  fruit 
that  grew  on  the  tree  of  internal  sight.  Then  he 
grew  silent.  He  raised  his  hand  to  his  eyes  for  a 
moment,  rubbed  them  as  if  awakening  from  a  long 
sleep,  opened  them  and  came  out  of  the  strange 
state  in  which  he  had  been. 

"  Where  am  I  ?  What  has  happened  ?  "  he  asked, 
excitedly,  as  if  he  were  alarmed.  "  Oh,  is  it  you, 


HASAN   THE    TEMPTER.  183 

Omar  al  Khayyami?  I  have  had  such  strange 
dreams,  but  I  cannot  remember  them.  What  were 
we  talking  about  ?  Oh,  yes,  about  my  success  with 
the  budget.  I  feel  within  my  heart  that  I  shall  rise 
high.  Did  I  say  anything  about  —  but  the  time  is 
not  yet  ripe.  Wait !  Wait !  When  I  am  ready, 
then  you  will  join  me.  Now  I  must  go." 

Hasan,  whose  color  had  by  this  time  returned, 
though  he  still  looked  sallow,  as  if  he  had  been  ill, 
rose  to  take  his  leave.  Omar  begged  him  to  have  a 
glass  of  wine. 

"  Never  !  Never !  I  follow  all  the  ordinances  and 
you  will  see  whether  you  or  I  rise  the  higher. 
Allah  will  reward  those  who  deny  themselves." 

Now  the  truth  of  the  matter  was  that  Hasan  just 
before  he  had  gone  to  Omar's  had  taken  some  of 
that  insidious  drug,  the  Indian  hemp,  and  possibly  to 
the  influence  of  that  was  due  the  extraordinary  per- , 
formance  that  had  so  mystified  Omar.  Hasan  was 
addicted  to  hashish,  and  under  its  inspiration  he 
was  able  to  accomplish  many  strenuous  undertakings. 
He  now,  as  he  went  away,  found  it  expedient  to  drop 
a  hint  regarding  the  hostage.  He  was  still  anxious 
to  know  how  far  Omar  had  progressed  in  his 
acquaintance  with  the  girl. 

So  he  said,  as  it  were  flying  a  winged  arrow  at 
Omar  :  "  I  have  more  than  trebled  the  Sultan's  reve 
nues  from  the  Province ;  and  I  can  see  ways  of  cut- 


184  OMAK    THE    TENTAfAA'ER. 

ting  down  the  expenses.  He  has  now  at  a  charge 
the  keeping  of  the  Greek  hostage  ;  if  her  ransom  does 
not  soon  come,  she  is  to  be  sold  as  a  slave.  I  mean 
to  buy  her." 

As  he  said  this  he  gazed  piercingly  at  Omar,  who 
clenched  his  fists  but  said  nothing.  Could  Hasan 
distinguish  the  least  tremor  in  the  poet's  beautiful 
face,  could  he  read  as  in  a  book  the  thoughts  in  his 
mind  ?  With  a  laugh  he  passed  out  under  the  arched 
doorway,  exclaiming  as  he  went : 

"  Shuma  salamat  bashld !  "  which  was  equivalent 
to  "  Peace  go  be  with  you." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A    SKILFUL    SERVANT. 

OMAR  was  at  first  alarmed  at  what  Hasan  had  said 
regarding  the  possibility  of  selling  Agape  as  a  slave. 
Yet  as  he  thought  it  over  it  seemed  to  him  an  im 
probable  thing  :  surely  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  of  whom  she 
had  spoken  so  affectionately,  would  not  permit  it. 
But  on  the  other  hand,  Hasan  had  seen  Agape  and 
his  remark  about  securing  her  if  she  were  sold,  indi 
cated  that  he  had  some  peculiar  interest  in  her. 
Omar  had  no  confidence  in  him  and  felt  that  it 
was  advisable  to  be  on  his  guard  and,  if  necessary, 
to  get  Agape  out  of  his  reach.  He  asked  himself  if 
it  would  not  be  well  to  go  to  Nizam u'l-Mulk,  tell 
him  exactly  how  affairs  were  situated,  and  ask  his 
advice.  He  knew  that  the  Waztr  was  his  firm  friend, 
was  the  soul  of  honor  and  generosity,  and  would  do 
what  was  right.  But  first  he  would  talk  with  Agape 
and  let  her  decide  his  action. 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  he  calmly  took  up 
his  customary  work,  making  use  of  all  his  philosophy 

'85 


1 86  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKLK. 

to  put  aside  his  anxious  and  pleasant  thoughts  of  the 
Greek  girl. 

Hasan  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  back  to  the 
palace,  communing  with  himself  and  perfectly  satis 
fied  with  his  course.  Though  he  had  not  surprised 
Omar  into  any  disclosure  he  felt  certain  that  the  poet 
was  having  an  intrigue  with  the  woman  they  called 
"the  hostage."  It  was  contrary  to  his  nature  to  look 
on  and  see  others  enjoying  what  he  would  himself 
enjoy.  Thus  he  was  working  as  far  as  he  could  to 
undermine  the  Wazir,  and  he  actually  pictured  to  his 
own  mind  the  possibilities  of  his  taking  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk's  place  and  thus  approach  one  step  nearer  to 
that  throne  that  in  his  inordinate  self-confidence  and 
conceit  he  felt  so  able  to  fill.  It  was  a  favorite  men 
tal  exercise  of  his  to  plan  what  he  would  do,  not  if, 
but  when  he  should  be  Shahinshah.  He  had  no 
patience  with  what  he  called  the  weaknesses  of 
rulers  :  he  would  not  yield  to  the  pleadings  of  mercy, 
the  man  who  proved  unfaithful  to  his  duties,  or  who 
was  not  obedient  to  his  least  command,  should  die. 
Hasan  often  remarked  that  the  office  was  greater 
than  the  man,  that  if  one  man  did  not  suit  there  was 
another;  the  world  is  full  of  men  and  the  loss  of 
one  or  a  dozen  or  a  thousand  is  of  no  consequence. 
Hasan  had  seen  a  hundred  perish  from  the  effects  of 
an  earthquake  and  he  argued  that  if  Allah  killed 
them  off  like  flies,  a  sultan  or  king  was  justified  in 


A    SKILFUL   SERVANT.  l8/ 

ridding  himself  of  any  number  of  incompetent  or 
indolent  or  dangerous  subjects. 

"When  I  am  Shahinshah,"  he  said  as  he  rode 
along  past  the  bazar  the  secrets  of  which  he  had  so 
successfully  penetrated,  and  the  dealers  of  which 
cursed  him  under  their  breath  as  they  saw  him 
ride  by,  haughty  and  stern,  with  his  fierce  mustachios 
curling  under  his  hooked  nose,  and  his  eyes  glowing 
in  their  cavernous  sockets.  "When  I  am  Shahin 
shah,  these  dogs  of  merchants  shall  not  make  the 
profits  they  do  now  :  I  will  have  the  lion's  share. 
There  is  Ahmad,  the  potter :  he  tried  to  hide  from 
me  his  transactions.  I  soon  brought  him  to  terms. 
The  threat  of  a  generous  application  of  the  willow 
wands  was  a  wholesome  medicine ;  but  the  fact  is 
better  than  the  promise  — 

"  To  whom  are  you  giving  the  advantage  of  your 
observations  ?  "  said  a  clear  voice  breaking  in  on  his 
monologue.  "  I  could  not  wholly  hear,  though  you 
were  talking  aloud." 

Hasan  looked  around  with  a  strange  expression  of 
mistrust,  hatred,  and  annoyance  changing  like  light 
ning  into  one  of  apparent  affability  as  he  saw  the 
smiling  Wazir  coming  up  behind  him. 

Self-communion  is  sometimes  wise,  but  it  is  safer 
to  indulge  in  it  only  with  closed  lips.  Hasan  under 
stood  this,  and  was  vexed  with  himself  for  having 
been  so  careless.  "  I  am  just  come  from  paying  a 


1 88  OMAH    THE    TENTMAKEK. 

visit  to  our  poet,  Omar  the  Tentmaker,"  he  said, 
truthfully ;  "  and  I  was  repeating  one  of  his  quat 
rains,"  he  added.  "  What  skill  he  has  in  managing 
the  difficult  metres.  But  I  could  wish  his  cast  of 
thought  were  not  so  pessimistic." 

"  Pessimistic  ?  Omar  is  no  pessimist.  He  is  a 
philosopher." 

"  Is  not  this  pessimistic  ? "  and  Hasan  cited  the 
rubd'l,  in  which  man  is  advised  not  to  blame  the 
heavens  for  his  misfortunes  for  the  reason  that 
it  as  impotently  moves  as  you  or  I. 

"  Nay,  that  is  fatalism." 

"  Or  this  ; "  and  Hasan,  showing  surprising  famil 
iarity  with  Omar's  work,  repeated  the  ruba'r  where 
he  wishes  he  had  not  been  born,  —  one  of  the  few 
which  are  stained  by  a  smooch  of  Oriental  coarse 
ness. 

"There  is  merely  the  expression  of  a  passing 
mood,"  said  Nizamu'1-Mulk.  "  Because  a  man  utters 
a  pessimistic  thought,  it  does  not  necessarily  follow 
that  the  whole  trend  of  his  philosophy  is  pessimistic. 
What  serenity  and  philosophy,  for  instance,  there 
are  in  these  lines  : 

" «  The  fears  of  death  from  our  illusions  rise 
For  death  is  but  the  door  to  Paradise, 

The  breath  of  Jesus  hath  rei'ived  my  soul, 
The  tales  of  everlasting  death  are  lies.11 * 

1  Translation  of  John  Leslie  Garner. 


A   SKILFUL   SERVANT.  189 

"  Omar  accepts  the  world  as  it  is.  It  is  surely  not 
a  wholly  cheerful  place  even  for  us  who  get  most 
from  it.  But  I  know  no  one  so  serene,  so  contented, 
so  fortified  against  all  trials.  I  have  heard  of  the 
Hebrew  Shaykh  Job,  whom  Allah  gave  over  to 
Shaitan  to  torment,  and  who  suffered  the  loss  of  all 
his  cattle  and  horses  and  children,  and  was  afflicted 
with  boils  :  Omar  would  have  borne  all  these  tribu 
lations  with  equal  serenity,  taking  them  only  as  his 
share  of  the  misfortunes  meant  for  man's  discipline. 
And  success  he  would  endure  no  less  triumphantly. 
When  Shaitan  failed  to  extort  a  complaint  from 
Job,  as  a  compensation,  Allah  doubled  all  his 
possessions." 

"  Perhaps  Shaitan  did  not  take  his  wives,"  re 
marked  Hasan,  maliciously.  Then,  suddenly,  by 
a  natural  connection  of  thought,  it  occurred  to  him 
that  he  might  learn  from  Nizamu'1-Mulk  regarding 
Agape.  He  resolved  to  lead  up  to  it  as  shrewdly 
as  possible. 

"  I  am  ready  to  lay  the  budget  before  the  Sultan," 
he  said.  "  Speaking  of  Job's  possessions  reminds 
me  of  it.  I  trust  he  will  be  satisfied.  I  have  vastly 
increased  the  possibility  of  revenue,  and  not  added 
materially  to  the  burdens  of  the  people." 

Just  as  he  said  that,  Nizamu'1-Mulk  overheard 
some  one  in  the  street  remarking  to  a  neighbor, 
"  There  goes  that  son  of  a  burning  father  !  Curse 


OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

him,  he  has  taken  the  sandals  from  our  feet  to  shoe 
his  horse  with  !  " 

But  Hasan  went  on  :  "  The  Shadow  of  God  can 
surely  no  longer  complain  of  the  stream  running 
low.  It  will  reach  the  brim  of  the  banks.  I  have 
also  seen  opportunities  to  reduce  expenses  with  no 
loss  of  comfort.  I  would  keep  on  with  the  pension 
given  to  Omar,  but  there  are  too  many  grooms  and 
too  many  pages  at  Court.  Half  might  be  spared. 
Then,  there  is  the  money  spent  for  the  support  of 
the  hostage  — 

He  paused  as  if  for  the  full  effect  of  his  words  to 
be  felt. 

"  The  hostage  ?  Oh,  you  mean  Agap£,  the  Greek 
princess.  That  need  not  concern  you,"  replied 
Nizamu'1-Mulk,  with  some  asperity  in  his  tone. 
"  The  prince,  her  father,  was  deprived  of  his  village, 
and  when  he  went  to  Athens,  to  secure  ransom  for 
himself,  the  Sultan  Alp  Arslan  entrusted  her  to  me, 
to  hold  as  a  hostage.  She  shall  not  be  disturbed  or 
interfered  with  in  any  way." 

"  Why  does  not  the  prince,  her  father,  send  to 
redeem  her  ? " 

"  I  am  not  in  his  counsels,"  said  the  Waztr. 

"  Our  poet,  Omar,  methinks,  has  cast  on  her  the 
eyes  of  longing." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  He  has  met   her  at  the  pavilion,    by  the  river. 


A    SKILFUL   SERVANT.  IQI 

Allah  be  praised,  wine  no  more  flows  there  as 
it  did." 

Now,  of  course  Nizamu'1-Mulk  knew  perfectly 
well  that  Omar  had  met  Agape  at  the  bustan,  but 
how  did  Hasan  know  ? 

"  So  your  duties  as  mace-bearer  included  spying 
on  the  Greek  maiden?  "  he  asked,  pointedly. 

That  was  a  turn  Hasan  might  have  expected. 

"Nay,"  he  swore,  "by  Allah  I  have  not  spied  on 
her." 

"  How,  then,  did  you  know  ?  Did  Omar  boast  of 
his  conquest  ? " 

Hasan  would  have  given  half  his  tongue  to  recall 
the  unfortunate  remark.  He  knew  not  what  refuge 
of  lies  or  truth  to  escape  to,  yet  in  an  instant  he 
bethought  him  : 

"  Agape  herself  told  me." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  outer  gate  of 
the  citadel,  and  there  was  no  opportunity  for  further 
speech.  Hasan,  inwardly  chuckling  at  his  cleverness, 
turned  gravely  to  Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  asked  him  to 
inform  the  Sultan  that  he  had  completed  the  task  of 
making  out  the  budget,  and  would  be  glad  to  lay  the 
details  before  him. 

It  was  certainly  a  remarkable  work,  and  when 
Hasan  the  next  day  was  called  to  an  audience  with 
Mali'kshah  and  unfolded  before  him  and  the  Wazir 
the  various  methods  he  had  evolved  for  increasing 


1 92  OMAR    THE    TEXT. MAKER. 

the  revenue,  when  he  explained  with  perfect  lucidity 
and  succinctness  the  resources  of  the  Province,  and 
made  it  evident  that  not  a  corner  had  been  left  unex- 
amined,  the  two  men  were  filled  with  admiration  at 
the  administrative  talent  displayed,  and  at  the  unex 
ampled  diligence  which  had  not  only  outlined  but 
even  elaborated  a  vast  system  of  taxation  within  a 
period  of  scarcely  three  and  twenty  days.  Moreover 
they  could  not  discover  that  there  was  any  undue 
pressure  on  farmer  or  potter,  brass  worker  or  silk 
weaver,  rug-maker  or  jeweller.  Only  NizAmu'1-Mulk 
and  Hasan  himself  knew  how  the  apparent  fairness 
was  somewhat  heavily  discounted  by  the  gifts  given 
in  exchange  for  a  partial  relenting,  and  neither  of 
them  knew  that  the  other  knew ;  nor  had  the  Wazir 
an  idea  of  the  amount  that  Hasan  had  received.  He 
would  never  have  been  able  to  accomplish  what  he 
did  in  the  course  of  the  years  that  followed  had  it 
not  been  for  the  wealth  so  suddenly  acquired. 

The  immediate  result  of  Hasan's  work  was  that 
his  budget  was  accepted,  and  he  was  given  the  still 
more  responsible  position  of  actual  treasurer,  with 
the  duty  of  putting  the  new  taxes  into  operation. 
The  Sultan  expressed  himself  as  more  than  pleased 
with  his  faithfulness  and  ability,  and  drawing  from 
his  finger  a  magnificent  ring,  set  with  sapphires  sur 
rounding  an  emerald  of  perfect  color,  he  gave  it  to 
Hasan. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

THE    SNARING    OF    A    PRETTY    BIRD. 

THE  position  of  Agape  in  the  anderun  was  excep 
tional.  She  had  one  advantage  which,  in  a  certain 
sense,  gave  her  a  superiority  even  over  the  Sultan's 
favorite  wife.  She  was  an  educated  woman,  she  was 
quick-witted,  and  she  was  wise  beyond  her  years. 
The  women  of  an  Eastern  haram,  deprived  of  outside 
interests  and  of  much  society,  lacking  any  mental 
training,  and  not  obliged  to  toil  or  to  spin,  naturally 
find  in  gossip  and  intrigue  their  chief  delectation. 
Jealousies  and  rivalries  are  apt  to  be  rampant,  and  it 
requires  a  firm  hand  on  the  part  of  the  quadrucon- 
jugal  husband  to  keep  his  flock  in  order.  When 
Agape,  as  a  girl  of  seventeen,  had  taken  her  position 
in  the  anderun  the  Persian  or  Farst  language  was  to 
her  wholly  unknown  ;  but,  as  she  was  gracious  in  her 
simple  manners,  and  tried  to  make  friends  with  the 
Sultan's  wives,  as  she  was  evidently  anxious  to  learn 
to  talk  with  them,  she  became,  in  a  short  time,  a  uni 
versal  favorite,  and  they  all  took  pains  to  teach  her 
how  to  express  herself,  and  the  diversion  which  her 

193 


194  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKETt. 

mistakes  caused,  the  amusement  which  she  herself 
found  in  them,  and  the  rapid  progress  which  she  made, 
the  stories  which  she  had  to  tell  of  her  life  in  a  dis 
tant  land,  —  all  proved  a  genuine  oasis  of  pleasure  in 
the  monotonous  desert  of  their  existence. 

She  was  equally  at  home  in  the  household  of  the 
Wazir,  who  had  not  as  yet  taken  advantage  of  the 
Prophet's  allowance  of  wives,  but  was  satisfied,  and 
consequently  sixteen  times  happier,  with  one, — Shirln 
Kanum,  a  woman  of  exceptional  beauty  and  intellect. 
He,  also,  had  found  in  Agap£  a  girl  unlike  any  one  he 
had  ever  before  seen.  Her  life  with  her  father  had 
made  a  woman  of  her  while  still  in  her  teens ;  she 
was  modest  and  refined,  and  yet  she  could  keep  her 
part  in  a  conversation  on  topics  utterly  beyond  the 
ken  of  a  Persian  woman  of  thrice  her  age.  She  had 
varied  accomplishments.  She  knew  music,  she  played 
the  lute,  and  sang  exquisite  Grecian  songs  in  her 
pure,  high  voice ;  as  we  have  seen,  she  could  dance 
with  all  the  grace  of  a  hamadryad.  She  was  given 
more  freedom  than  it  was  customary  to  allow  Farsl 
women,  and  as  she  was  always  attended  by  the  gigan 
tic  eunuch,  Aga  Zalym,  she  came  and  went  without 
let  or  hindrance.  Zalym  was  her  devoted  slave. 
His  worship  of  her  was  touching;  great,  fierce,  ugly 
barbarian  that  he  was,  to  her  he  was  as  gentle  as  a 
trained  elephant,  and  he  would  have  unquestioningly 
sacrificed  his  life  for  her. 


THE  SNARING    OF  A    PRETTY  BIRD.          1 95 

Nizamu'1-Mulk  thought  it  possible  that  Agape  had 
told  Hasan  of  meeting  Omar  at  the  bustan.  Hasan 
had  been  at  the  palace  long  enough  to  have  seen  her, 
and  as  she  was  lively  and  talkative,  she  might  easily 
have  let  slip  some  intimation  of  her  meeting  with 
Omar ;  and  yet  —  Of  course,  he  knew  nothing  of 
her  second  and  third  visit  there.  The  Aga  Zalym 
was  more  faithful  to  Agape  than  to  him.  Agape 
had  bade  him  say  nothing,  and  his  mouth  was 
sealed. 

The  Wazir  saw  well  that  something  must  soon 
be  done  with  Agape.  The  ominous  silence  of  her 
father  seemed  to  signify  that  he  was  dead,  and,  as  his 
village  had  been  destroyed,  there  was  probably  none 
of  her  family  left  to  inquire  into  her  fate.  She  was 
now  a  marriageable  young  woman,  and,  though  por 
tionless,  her  grace,  beauty,  and  accomplishments,  as 
well  as  the  fact  that  she  was  a  titled  maiden,  might 
make  her  attractive  to  some  man  of  distinction. 

Hasan's  remark  connecting  her  with  Omar  gave 
him  what  seemed  the  key  to  the  difficulty,  If  it 
we're  true  that  Omar  was  pleased  with  the  girl,  — 
and  how  could  he  fail  to  be,  after  the  dainty  compli 
ment  that  she  had  lavished  on  him  regarding  his 
poems  ?  —  surely  no  better  wife  could  be  found  for 
him  !  The  more  he  thought  it  over,  the  more  suit 
able  the  match  seemed  to  him,  and  he  vowed  that  if 
it  should  come  about,  he  would  induce  the  Sultan 


196  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

himself  to  confer  on  Agape"  a  marriage-portion  that 
\  would  be  compatible  with  her  former  position. 

It  need  not  be  imagined  that  men  are  above  the 
pleasant  diplomacy  of  matchmaking.  Sex  has  noth 
ing  to  do  with  it.  It  is  really  an  art  more  absorb 
ing  than  that  of  painting :  in  the  one,  colors  are 
put  together  in  harmonious  combinations ;  in  the 
other,  souls  and  bodies,  dispositions  and  tastes,  are 
united,  and  when  the  contrasts  are  well  relieved,  the 
result  is  a  masterpiece  of  immortality. 

The  Wazlr  resolved  to  sound  Omar  at  the  first 
chance ;  but  first  he  would  speak  to  Malflcshah 
about  it.  He  had  no  doubt  that  the  Sultan  would 
look  on  it  in  the  same  light  as  he  did.  So  a  day  or 
two  later,  being  alone  with  Malikshah,  he  broached 
the  subject. 

"  For  four  years,"  he  said,  "  the  daughter  of  Prince 
Kreiton  has  been  living  at  your  Majesty's  Court  as  a 
hostage.  No  ransom  has  come  for  her,  and  Hasan 
ben  Sabah  suggests  that  some  disposition  be  made 
of  her.  Has  your  Majesty  any  desire  respecting 
her?" 

"  Was  it  not  the  Greek  girl  that  danced  before  me 
at  the  poet  Omar's  pavilion  ? " 

"  It  was  Agap£,  the  Greek  maiden." 

"  She  danced  with  grace.  I  remember  she  also 
i  answered  Omar's  problem  with  sagacity." 

"  It  had  occurred  to  me  that  perhaps  Omar  might 


THE   SNARING    OF  A    PRETTY  BIRD. 

be  moved  to  take  her  to  wife,  he  being  unmarried. 
From  the  girl's  remark,  I  judge  she  would  not  re 
gard  such  a  fate  as  cruel.  What  woman  could  ?  " 

"  I  would  give  my  consent." 

"  But  the  girl  is  portionless  unless  her  father  be 
still  living,  and  able  to  raise  the  money  for  her  ran 
som.  You  remember  his  village  was  razed  to  the 
ground,  and  all  its  inhabitants  were  — 

Mali'kshah  broke  in  on  his  sentence  : 

"  Then  surely  we  owe  the  girl  a  portion.  We 
grant  her  ten  thousand  mithkals  of  gold.  Let  it  be 
from  the  new  revenues  of  Nishapur.  Hasan  ben 
Sabah  shall  see  that  it  be  paid  on  the  day  of  her 
marriage." 

This  ended  the  matter  and  Nizamu'1-Mulk  felt 
sure  of  his  scheme's  success.  He  felt  sure  that 
Omar  would  gladly  take  Agape,  and  no  less  sure 
that  Agape  would  gladly  dwell  the  rest  of  her  life 
in  Omar's  care.  He  felt  a  generous  delight  in  being 
able  to  put  into  Omar's  possession  such  an  incom 
parable  pearl. 

Thus  while  Omar  and  Agape  were  both  trying  to 
shape  their  destiny  and  not  quite  daring  to  speak 
openly  what  after  all  each  desired  most  earnestly, 
the  higher  powers  had  resolved  for  them.  How 
unfortunate  that  Omar  did  not  go  straight  to  the 
unselfish  Wazir,  and  tell  him  exactly  how  he  and 
Agape  felt  and  perhaps  have  asked  —  as  he  would 


198  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

have  obtained  —  permission  to  go  to  Rum,  as  the 
Persian  called  the  Grecian  land,  and  satisfy  Agape 
that  her  father  was  no  longer  in  the  land  of  the 
living.  But  Agapd  and  Omar  both  had  in  their 
natures  a  little  of  the  Greek  and  Persian  slyness, 
which  prompted  them  rather  to  the  clandestine  than 
to  the  avowed.  A  surreptitious  interview  might  be 
prevented  or  interruptecTfbut  the  chances  of  their 
meeting,  if  their  plan  of  meeting  was  known,  were 
almost  null, — or  so  at  least  they  imagined. 

Hasan  was  all  the  time  maturing  his  plans.  He 
more  than  once  tried  to  win  the  Aga  Zalym  over  to 
his  interests,  but  found  him  incorruptible.  Such 
fidelity  was  wholly  contrary  to  his  experience  of  the 
character  of  eunuchs,  who,  he  knew,  were  generally 
mercenary,  revengeful,  and  treacherous.  He  tried 
in  vain  to  get  speech  with  Agape1  herself;  he  had 
great  faith  in  his  compelling  eye,  and  no  doubt  that 
if  once  he  could  bring  her  under  its  compulsion  she 
would  do  as  he  should  will.  But  Agap£  evidently 
avoided  him  ;  her  keen  instinct  seemed  to  tell  her 
that  the  tall  Persian,  with  his  fanatic  face,  was  an 
enemy  to  the  joy  and  brightness  which  she  loved. 

But  Hasan  was  more  successful  with  others  ;  he 
easily  bribed  the  second  eunuch  of  the  anderun  to 
keep  him  informed  of  what  went  on  in  the  women's 
quarters,  and  his  son  was  instructed  not  to  fail  to 
follow  any  woman  who  should  slip  out  alone*  or  at- 


THE  SNARIATG   OF  A   PRETTY  BIRD.          199 

tended.  Hasan  knew  that  if  Agape  had  once  met 
Omar  surreptitiously  she  would  surely  seize  the  first 
opportunity  to  do  so  again.  His  plan  was  to  prevent 
the  meeting  if  possible,  but  if  impossible,  to  have  a 
little  troop  of  horsemen  waiting  to  kill  the  Aga  if 
necessary,  and  to  seize  Agape  and  convey  her  to 
a  house  that  he  had  prepared  to  receive  her.  He 
had  the  ministers  all  ready  to  execute  his  commands ; 
there  is  no  question  as  to  his  almost  miraculous  power 
in  bending  the  wills  of  men. 

But  a  much  longer  time  than  he  anticipated 
elapsed  before  Agape  saw  her  way  clear  to  prom 
ise  and  set  an  hour  for  meeting  Omar  at  the 
pavilion.  Omar  himself  had  been  occupied  in  su 
perintending  the  erection  of  his  new  observatory 
on  the  hill ;  the  instruments  which  he  had  ordered 
required  his  personal  superintendence,  and  he  had 
been  obliged  to  be  at  the  coppersmith's  every  day, 
lest  some  mistake  should  be  made  in  constructing 
the  various  instruments  which  he  needed.  Then  he 
had  to  ride  more  than  once  to  the  observatory  to  see 
that  it  was  progressing  satisfactorily.  Then,  again, 
the  Sultan  and  the  Wazir  several  times  arranged 
to  spend  an  afternoon  of  relaxation  with  him,  either 
at  the  bustan  or  in  the  park  on  the  hill.  But  at  last 

a  day  came  when  Mah'kshah  and  Nizamu'1-Mulk  were 

J 
to   go   down   to  the   desert    hawking  bustards,   and 

Agape,  learning  of  it  in  time,  found  means  to  send 


200  OMAR    THK    TKNTMAKER. 

word  to  Omar,  who,  on  the  plea  that  he  must  look 
after  his  astronomical  instruments,  excused  himself 
from  the  pleasure  of  going  with  them. 

Hasan  knew  of  the  meeting  planned  even  before 
Omar  received  Agape's  dainty  little  note.  He  de 
termined  to  act  instantly.  He  ordered  six  men, 
who  he  knew  would  serve  him  unquestioningly, 
to  ride  out,  one  by  one,  without  attracting  suspicion, 
and  to  lie  in  ambush  behind  one  of  the  round  towers 
that  were  used  on  the  plain  as  a  house  for  pigeons, 
where  the -guano  was  collected  for  agricultural  pur 
poses.  The  path  to  the  river  led  directly  by  this 
building,  which  was  deserted  and  excellently  adapted 
as  a  hiding-place  or  an  ambush.  They  were  to  let 
pass  without  hindrance  any  man  riding  or  walking 
alone,  but  were  to  seize  and  overpower  the  Aga 
Zatym,  and  then  take  possession  of  the  palankin  in 
which  the  woman  under  his  escort  was  carried. 

It  was  a  hot  day ;  not  a  breeze  was  stirring ;  the 
blazing  sun  poured  down  from  a  cloudless  sky  bluer 
than  a  sapphire ;  the  Persian  summer  had  begun. 

Omar,  unsuspecting  of  the  plot,  passed  slowly  by 
the  tall  towef.  He  paused  for  a  moment  in  its 
shadow  to  watch  the  doves  circling  around  it,  pois 
ing  on  its  parapet,  marching  up  and  down,  their 
burnished  feathers  glistening  in  the  sunlight.  Then, 
having  rested,  he  proceeded  in  the  direction  of  the 
river,  and  disappeared  from  sight. 


THE  SNARING   OF  A   PRETTY  BIRD.         2OI 

A  little  later,  riding  carelessly  along  on  a  mule 
too  small  for  his  long  legs,  came  the  Aga  Zalym, 
immediately  preceding  a  palankin  borne  by  two 
stout  Chinese  Tslaves.  A  little  whistle  twice  re 
peated,  but  scarcely  more  noticeable  than  the  note 
of  a  bird,  gave  the  warning  agreed  on  ;  suddenly,  six 
armed  men  dashed  out  without  making  any  cry ;  two 
of  them  knocked  Zalym  from  his  mule,  and,  quickly 
binding  him,  dragged  him  behind  the  tower.  The 
others,  threatening  instant  death  to  the  palankin- 
bearers  if  they  made  a  sound,  halted  them.  Agape, 
for  it  was  she  whom  they  had  so  successfully 
stopped,  opened  the  door  of  the  palankin  and  tried 
to  escape.  It  took  but  an  instant  to  recapture  her : 
it  was  done  without  violence,  for  Hasan  had  cau 
tioned  the  men  to  treat  the  girl  gently,  and  she 
was  put  back  into  the  palankin.  They  admonished 
her  not  to  open  her  mouth,  and  Agape  knew  that 
it  was  useless  to  shout  for  help ;  for  if  there  were 
any  to  aid,  they  would  suppose  it  was  only  the 
forcible  cessation  of  some  intrigue,  and  would  not 
dream  of  interfering.  She  knew  too  well  from  the 
gossip  of  the  anderun  how  husbands  deceived  some 
times  took  their  revenge.  She,  therefore,  accepted 
the  inevitable,  and  waited  developments.  She  had 
much  faith  in  her  own  cleverness,  and  she  knew  that 
she  must  keep  her  wits  about  her,  if  at  some  favor 
able  juncture  she  were  to  escape. 


2O2  OMAR    THE    TENTMAh'ER. 

But  as  the  palankin,  now  under  the  escort  of  the 
four  mounted  men,  made  its  way  back  to  the  city, 
she  turned  over  in  her  mind  the  possible  reasons  for 
this  outrage.  She  at  first  supposed  that  her  visit 
to  the  bustan  had  been  detected,  and  that  they 
were  taking  her  back  to  the  Arg ;  but  when,  on 
passing  the  gate,  the  four  horsemen  compelled  the 
palankin-bearers  to  turn  to  the  left,  and,  quickening 
their  pace,  to  bring  her  into  a  part  of  the  city  where 
she  had  never  before  been,  she  realized  that  some 
fate,  perhaps  a  thousand  times  more  dreadful  than 
what  she  had  feared,  was  before  her.  Her  heart 
sank  within  her  when,  at  last,  the  men  stopped  at  a 
gloomy  house,  and  raising  a  brass  knocker,  shaped 
like  a  coiled  serpent  with  darting  fangs,  thumped 
furiously  on  the  black  door.  A  moment  later  the 
door  was  cautiously  opened  and  admitted  all  the 
men ;  at  the  same  time  two  grooms  appeared  and 
led  away  their  horses. 

Agape  was  conducted  through  an  inner  court 
furnished  with  an  ill-kept  tank,  over  which  leaned 
a  scraggly  date-palm  ;  a  hideous  old  woman,  whose 
dark,  wrinkled  skin  could  not  be  hidden  by  the  pre 
tence  of  the  veil  that  she  wore,  received  the  girl,  and 
saying  not  a  word,  took  her  by  the  hand,  the  scrawny, 
claw-like  fingers  grasping  roughly  the  delicate  wrist, 
and  drew  her  into  the  anderun.  Agap£  tried  to 
question  the  old  woman.  She  asked  why  she  had 


THE  SNARING   OF  A   PRETTY  BIRD.         2O3 

been  abducted,  who  had  dared  to  lay  hands  on  her, 
what  they  were  going  to  do  with  her ;  but  the  old 
hag  refused  to  speak,  and  only  shook  her  head. 
When  Agape,  stamping  her  foot  imperiously,  com- 
manded  her  to  answer,  the  old  woman,  who  had 
removed  her  veil,  opened  her  mouth,  and  Agape" 
saw  to  her  horror  that  the  repulsive  creature  was 
not  only  toothless  but  tongueless  ;  her  tongue  had 
been  torn  out  years  before.  The  action  was  an 
implicit  threat,  and  Agape  understood  it  so. 

Nevertheless  the  old  woman,  whose  name  even 
Agape  did  not  know,  prepared  a  dish  not  unlike 
pilaf  and  a  bowl  of  goat's  milk,  and  set  it  before 
her.  At  first  she  thought  she  could  not  eat,  —  her 
appetite  was  stifled,  —  but  as  she  realized  that  she 
might  need  all  the  strength  she  could  muster,  she 
forced  herself  to  swallow  the  food,  and  found  it  not 
ill-flavored. 

An  hour  —  two  hours  passed,  and  Agape  knew  by 
the  changing  light  that  the  afternoon  was  waning. 
She  went  with  pretended  carelessness  near  the  door, 
but  the  old  woman,  whose  eyes  had  been  apparently 
closed,  sprang  there  before  her  and  barred  the  way. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A    MIRACULOUS    ESCAPE. 

WHEN  the  two  men  had  dragged  the  Aga  Zalym 
from  his  mule,  one  of  them  had  hit  him  a  violent 
blow  on  the  head  with  a  club ;  it  had  stunned  him. 
After  they  had  placed  him  on  the  ground,  behind  the 
pigeon-tower,  he  lay  so  perfectly  motionless  that  they 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  must  have  killed 
him. 

"Tamam  shud  —  he  is  dead,"  said  one. 

"What  shall  we  do  with  iff"  asked  the  other. 

"  It  won't  do  to  leave  him  here." 

"  Wait  a  moment,"  said  the  second  speaker.  "  I 
have  it." 

He  emerged  cautiously  from  the  covert,  and  walk 
ing  along  several  hundred  paces,  came  to  one  of  the 
wells  that  were  a  part  of  the  irrigating  system  of 
the  plain.  Having  made  sure  that  they  were  not 
observed,  he  went  back,  and,  beckoning  to  his  com 
panion,  whispered  to  him  his  plan.  The  other 
approved  it,  and  they  took  up  the  inanimate  body 
of  the  unfortunate  eunuch,  and,  having  brought  it 

204 


A    MIRACULOUS   ESCAPE. 

to  the  well,  flung  it  in  unceremoniously.  Then  they 
started  off  for  the  city  to  report  to  Hasan  and 
receive  their  promised  reward. 

Fortunately  the  water  in  the  well  was  not  deep,  but 
it  was  deep  enough  to  break  the  Aga  Zalym's  fall, 
and  it  was  cold  enough  to  restore  him  to  conscious 
ness.  He  stood  in  water  up  to  his  shoulders,  dazed, 
dizzy,  and  absolutely  at  a  loss  to  know  what  had 
happened.  He  shouted  for  help,  but  no  one  came. 
He  waited  shivering ;  the  pain  in  his  head  prevented 
him  from  any  connected  thought,  but  when  he  found 
that  he  was  wasting  his  breath,  he  desisted  from 
shouting,  and  tried- to  climb  out.  It  was  a  hopeless 
task ;  he  saw  that  he  was  trapped,  but  as  his  eyes 
grew  more  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  he  found  that 
the  water  'was  pouring  down  stone-lined  channels, 
leading  in  several  different  directions.  One  seemed 
to  be  the  feeder  of  the  well  and  of  the  others,  and 
into  this  he  climbed  without  very  great  difficulty.  It 
was  large  enough  for  him  to  grope  through,  bent 
almost  double,  and  though  he  knew  not  to  what  it 
might  lead  him,  he  followed  along  this  karez,  hop 
ing  that  it  would  ultimately  bring  him  into  higher 
levels,  and  thus  within  reach  of  the  surface.  His 
progress  was  slow  and  painful ;  more  than  once  he 
felt  inclined  to  give  up,  —  lie  down  and  die.  After 
a  long  time  he  reached  another  well ;  it  was  not  so 
deep  as  the  first,  and  from  this  also  led  passages  in 


2O6  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

several  directions.  Aga  Zalym,  before  he  selected 
one  of  these,  again  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  falsetto 
voice,  but  still  no  one  came  to  his  aid,  and  he  was 
unable  to  climb  unaided  to  the  top.  Again  he  had 
the  desperately  slow  and  painful  passage  through  the 
low,  narrow  drain  ;  his  head  was  splitting  with  agony, 
his  body  was  chilled  by  his  soaked  clothing,  and  the 
weariness,  caused  by  the  unusual  exertion,  hampered 
him  as  if  logs  were  tied  to  his  limbs.  It  seemed  an 
eternity  since  he  had  come  to  his  consciousness,  and 
he  was  now  tormented  by  the  thought  that  some 
evil  had  befallen  his  beloved  charge. 

Suddenly  he  came  into  one  of  the  ferraniol  or 
reservoirs,  of  which  there  were  twelve  at  that  time 
on  the  Plain  of  Nishapur.  This  was  an  extensive 
excavation,  perhaps  twelve  feet  deep  ;  fortunately  for 
him  the  depth  of  water  was  not  considerable.  A 
multitude  of  columns  supported  a  series  of  arches, 
over  which  extended  a  flooring,  covered  with  soil,  and 
supporting  a  little  peach  orchard.  A  single  air-hole 
let  in  light  and  ventilation,  and  as  Zaly*m  happened 
to  come  out  from  the  passage  into  the  reservoir 
almost  under  this  open  air-hole,  he  was  able  to  see 
where  he  was.  Zal^m  mustered  all  his  energies  and 
gave  one  yell. 

The  effect  was  startling ;  his  hair,  wet  as  it  was, 
stood  on  end  with  horror.  His  superstitious  mind 
imagined  that  the  whole  space,  which  he  could  see 


A    MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE.  2O/ 

stretching  away  into  the  darkness  and  distance,  was 
filled  with  demons  mocking  him,  and,  perhaps,  ready  to 
tear  him  pieces.  He  could  hear  them  gathering 
behind  the  pillars,  ready  to  pounce  on  him.  His 
tongue  clove  to  his  throat  with  terror;  but  when  . 
nothing  touched  him  he  yelled  again,  and  again 
came  that  blood-curdling  pandemonium  of  sounds. 
It  was  really  only  the  manifold  echo  of  his  voice, 
reverberating  under  the  arches,  and  in  the  hollows,  <• 
and  against  the  pillars.  This  time  his  cry  was 
heard :  the  caretaker  of  the  reservoir  happened 
to  be  not  far  from  the  vent  hole,  and  hearing 
such  a  strange  noise  in  the  depths  below  him,  he 
put  his  head  down  and  said  : 

"What  is  it?" 

When  he  at  last  distinguished  the  cry  of  "  help  " 
he  got  a  ladder  and  ran  it  down  through  the  vent- 
hole  ;  then  he  himself  descended  part  way  and 
reached  his  hand  to  the  poor  Aga,  who,  putting  forth 
his  last  remaining  vestige  of  energy,  managed  to 
climb  to  the  top.  No  sooner  had  he  reached  the  sur 
face  than  he  fell  senseless.  The  caretaker,  who  was 
a  man  of  sympathetic  nature,  saw  by  Zalym's  dress, 
wet  and  soiled  though  it  was,  that  he  was  no  ordinary 
individual,  managed  to  convey  the  unconscious  man  to 
his  own  house,  where  he  had  him  properly  attended 
to.  He  summoned  a  Hakim  bashi,  as  they  called 
the  doctor  in  Iran,  and  told  him  the  circumstances 


208  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

of  the  sick  man's  arrival.  The  doctor  ordered  an 
electuary  made  of  pepper  and  myrobolans,  male 
orchis,  chamomile  twigs,  pine-seeds,  and  citron,  and 
ordered  it  administered  in  a  bolus  the  size  of  a  wal 
nut  every  hour  till  morning.  But  he  added,  "  Allah 
is  the  curer  of  all  diseases."  When  the  next  morn 
ing  he  came  again,  Zalym  was  in  a  high  fever  and 
delirious.  He  was  raving  about  Agap£,  calling  the 
name  again  and  again,  but,  of  course,  it  meant  noth 
ing  to  the  attendants.  Then  he  would  try  to  get  out 
of  bed,  and  it  required  considerable  strength  to  keep 
him  there.  The  Hakim  bash!  put  on  a  very  wise 
expression,  stroked  his  long  beard  stained  red,  and, 
looking  at  Zalym,  said  : 

"Verily,  his  mind  is  not  swinging  on  its  own 
hinges ;  he  raves  like  one  insane.  Now,  the  proper 
remedy  for  insanity  is  the  Mufarrih-i-yakdt,  which, 
being  properly  compounded,  contains  a  solution  of 
turquoise,  emerald,  chrysolite,  carnelian,  lapis  lazuli, 
and  unpierced  pearl ;  the  union  of  colors  and  of 
properties  causes  a  most  beneficent  and  calming 
effect.  But  this  remedy  is  excessively  costly  and 
difficult  to  procure.  The  next  best  thing  is  cold 
water,  applied  externally  and  internally.  Water  ab 
sorbs  the  wild  humor  and  restores  the  reason." 

It  was  several  days  before  the  liberal  application 
of  water  had  its  desired  effect.  When  at  last  the 
fever  abated  and  the  Ag&  Zalym  came  to  himself 


A    MIRACULOUS  ESCAPE.  2(X) 

once  more,  he  was  as  weak  as  a  child.  He  had  not 
the  slightest  idea  where  he  was,  nor  could  he  remem 
ber  anything  of  what  had  happened.  Or,  rather, 
what  had  actually  happened  was  confused  with  the 
dimly  remembered  dreams  that  had  accompanied  his 
illness.  It  was  a  week  before  he  was  able  to  sit  up, 
but  after  that  he  recovered  rapidly.  He  could  hardly 
master  his  impatience  to  return  to  the  Arg  and  find 
what  had  happened  to  Agape. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

AN    EMBASSY    FROM    RUM. 

OMAR  was  more  disappointed  than  surprised  at  the 
absence  of  Agapd.  The  marvel  to  his  mind  was  that 
she  could  manage  to  come  at  all.  He  waited  two 
hours  beyond  the  appointed  time,  and  then,  relin 
quishing  all  hope  of  seeing  her,  he  drank  a  lonely 
glass  of  wine  and  leisurely  returned  to  the  city. 

The  next  day,  at  the  morning  meal,  his  mother 
said : 

"  My  son,  you  know  I  am  wont  to  dream,  and  to 
have  strange  dreams.  Last  night  I  had  over  and 
over  again  a  troubled  and  anxious  vision.  A  young 
maiden  appeared  before  me,  with  tears  streaming 
down  her  face  and  with  clasped  hands,  and  she 
asked,  in  a  peculiar  accent,  '  Where  is  Omar  ? ' 
She  was  not  like  our  girls  of  Iran.  And  even  while 
I  tried  to  comfort  her,  rough  men  seized  her  and 
carried  her  off.  Twice  she  seemed  to  come  to  me, 
and  to  say,  '  Where  is  Omar  ?  Why  does  not  Omar 
save  me  ? '  and  each  time  she  was  carried  off  by  the 
same  men.  The  dream  dwells  with  me,  and  I  can 

2IO 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  RUM.  211 

not  shake  off  its  influence.     It  seems  to  me  as  if 
some  misfortune  were  about  to  strike  you." 

Omar  remembered  how  only  a  day  or  two  before 
his  father  died  his  mother  had  also  dreamed  a  dis 
quieting  dream.  He  remembered  also  how  she  had 
one  night  dreamed  that  he,  Omar,  was  dead,  and  yet 
he  appeared  before  her  and  repeated  a  quatrain  so 
perfect  in  form  and  so  characteristic  of  him  that  he 
wished  he  had  composed  it.  It  was  this  : 

"  Oh,  Thou,  who  burrfst  in  Heart  for  those  who  burn 
In  Hell,  whose  fires  thyself  shall  feed  in  turn; 
How  long  be  crying,  '  Mercy  on  them,  God ! ' 
Why,  who  art  Thou  to  teach,  and  He  to  learn  f  "  * 

His  mother's  dream  of  a  girl  with  broken  accent, 
in  trouble  and  calling  on  him  for  aid,  seemed  involun 
tarily  to  connect  itself  with  Agape's  failure  to  appear 
the  afternoon  before.  He  could  not  throw  off  the 
incubus  of  anxiety  which  each  instant  weighed 
heavier  on  his  heart.  Instead  of  going  to  the 
brassmaker  to  see  about  his  new  orrery  that  was 
to  be  done  that  day,  he  directed  his  course  to  the 
palace,  hoping  that  he  might  in  some  way  get  a 
word  of  explanation  from  Agape. 

At  the  palace  he  found  great  excitement.  An 
embassy  from  the  Emperor  at  Byzantium  had  just 
arrived,  and  the  official  meeting  was  taking  place. 

1  Edward  Fitzgerald's  version. 


212  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

The  gorgeous  robes  of  the  imperial  party,  which 
took  especial  pains  to  show  to  the  best  advantage 
the  wealth  and  power  of  the  Eastern  Empire,  the 
manifold  and  complicated  ceremonies  which  the  eti 
quette  of  the  Court  prescribed,  made  a  scene  that 
was  marvellous  for  its  beauty  and  splendor.  The 
Sultan,  blazing  with  jewels,  sat  on  his  ebony  throne ; 
at  his  right  hand  stood  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  more  simply 
clad,  but  remarkable  for  his  dignity  and  nobility. 
Nor  was  Hasan  ben  Sabah  absent  from  the  distin 
guished  throng ;  with  haughty  face  and  flashing 
eyes  he  stood  overtopping  all  but  a  few  of  the 
courtiers. 

There  were  various  matters  of  state  importance 
that  had  to  be  discussed  by  means  of  interpreters. 
Then  the  ambassador  remarked  that  he  had  in  his 
train  the  Prince  Kreiton  who  had,  four  years  before, 
left  his  daughter,  the  Princess  Agape,  at  the  Court  of 
the  Sultan  as  a  hostage.  Various  causes  —  among 
others  a  long  illness  —  had  (to  his  great  grief)  pre 
vented  his  redeeming  her  before.  The  question  of 
the  indemnity  was  to  be  settled. 

The  prince,  who  was  now  presented  to  Malfkshah 
with  due  formality,  was  a  pure  type  of  the  Greek. 
His  age  was  not  far  from  fifty,  but  care  and  suffering 
had  left  traces  on  his  handsome  face.  He  was  natu 
rally  most  eager  to  see  his  beloved  daughter  once 
more,  and  had  no  doubt  that  the  order  would  be 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  RUM.  21$ 

immediately  given  for  her  restoration  to  him.  He 
was  ready  to  pay  whatever  sum  the  Sultan  should 
demand. 

The  Sultan,  after  consulting  with  Nizamu'1-Mulk, 
replied  that  he  was  disposed  to  remit  the  ransom  of 
Prince  Kreiton  in  view  of  the  fact  that  his  estates  at 
Koine  had  been  taken  from  him ;  moreover,  his 
daughter,  the  Princess  Agape,  had  been  an  ornament 
and  delight  to  his  Court,  and  therefore  he  would  give 
her  to  her  father,  as  it  were,  a  free  gift  of  friendship 
and  good  will.  But  remembering  the  talk  that  he 
had  held  with  Nizamu'1-Mulk  concerning  Agape  and 
Omar,  and  not  willing  to  see  that  pleasant  plan 
broken  off,  he  added  : 

"  Perhaps  the  Princess  Agape  would  not  be  unwill 
ing  to  remain  in  Iran  ;  in  that  case  would  the  Prince 
Kreiton  also  be  persuaded  to  become  a  member  of 
our  Court,  suitable  provision  being  made  for  his 
support  ? " 

This  proposition  showed  the  broad  and  liberal 
spirit  of  this  Seljuk  Turk :  to  some  of  his  faith  the 
mere  sight  of  a  Christian  would  have  been  a  cause  of 
spitting. 

The  prince,  not  knowing  exactly  what  to  make  of 
this  question,  and  perhaps  a  little  suspicious,  evaded 
a  direct  reply,  but  said  he  would  first  talk  with  his 
daughter. 

Then  with  a  generous  delicacy  the  Sultan  ordered 


214  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

that  the  prince  should  be  conducted  to  a  khelwat  or 
private  room  and  that  Agape  should  be  taken  to  him 
there. 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  to  be  given  up  to  sight 
seeing  and  to  a  great  dinner  in  the  afternoon.  The 
plans  were  all  made  in  some  haste,  for  the  Sultan  and 
his  minister  being  away  on  their  hunting  expedition 
the  day  before,  all  the  details  of  the  istikbal  had 
fallen  on  Ibrahim  Niyal,  who  had  performed  that 
important  ceremony  late  the  preceding  afternoon, 
and  had  brought  the  guests  into  the  city  and  suitably 
lodged  them  at  the  Arg. 

Of  course  the  long  absence  of  Agap£  was  noticed 
at  the  anderun,  and  caused  some  wonder  among  the 
women.  But  as  the  Aga  Zal^m  was  supposed  to 
be  with  her,  it  was  taken  to  be  only  one  of  the  Greek 
girl's  occasional  visits  to  the  wife  of  the  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk.  But  the  demand  for  her  to  come  and  meet 
her  father,  quickly  revealed  the  fact  that  she  was  not 
in  the  anderun,  nor  had  she  been  in  the  apartment 
occupied  by  the  Wazlr  and  his  family.  The  Agd 
Zalym  was  not  to  be  found.  Agap£  seemed  to  have 
entirely  disappeared.  So  well  had  she  managed  her 
visit  to  the  bustan,  not  a  soul  had  seen  her  ^o  out,  and 
the  palankin-bearers,  who  had  twice  before  carried 
her  to  the  river,  were  prisoners  as  well  as  Agap£. 
The  only  person  in  the  Court  who  could  have  un 
locked  the  mystery  was  Hasan  ben  Sabah.  His 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  RUM.  21$ 

satanic  spirit  took  a  fiendish  delight  in  the  success 
of  his  enterprise,  and  in  the  trouble  which  he  saw 
was  to  follow  the  loss  of  the  hostage. 

When  the  pages  returned  and  informed  the  Sultan 
that  Agape  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  consternation 
reigned.  Omar,  who  had  been  amazed  at  the  appari 
tion  of  Agape's  father,  had  at  first  supposed  that  the 
girl's  failure  to  appear  at  the  pavilion  was  explained 
by  his  unexpected  arrival ;  but  now  when  the  rumor 
ran  through  the  assembly  that  she  had  disappeared, 
he  was  filled  with  wild  alarm.  He  felt  almost  guilty 
of  whatever  accident  might  have  befallen  her.  He 
knew  not  what  to  do,  but  resolved  to  confess,  as  soon 
as  possible,  to  the  Wazir,  how  Agape  had  promised 
but  failed  to  meet  him  at  the  bustan.  He  was  no 
coward,  and  though  he  had  enjoyed  the  secrecy  of 
the  acquaintance,  he  was  not  afraid  to  meet  the 
consequences. 

Hasan  ben  Sabah,  his  face  unusually  impassive 
though  stern,  managed  to  whisper  into  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk's  ear  the  suspicion  that  Omar  might  know 
something  about  Agape.  But  the  Wazir,  although 
he  remembered  well  enough  what  Hasan  had  once 
before  stated  in  regard  to  Omar  meeting  Agape  at 
the  pavilion,  had  not  the  slightest  distrust  awakened 
by  Hasan's  innuendo.  Orders  were  given  for  a  sys 
tematic  search  for  her,  and  the  eager  father  was  in 
formed  that  she  was  gone  out  to  the  bazar,  but  would 


2l6  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

be  sent  to  him  as  soon  as  she  returned  :  that  they 
had  summoned  her. 

But  when  the  messengers  and  searchers,  one  by 
one,  returned  without  finding  any  trace  of  her,  and 
when  the  Ag£  Zatym  also  failed  to  appear,  it  was 
evident  to  all  that  something  extraordinary  had 
happened.  What  now  should  be  told  Prince  Kreiton  ? 
It  was  a  most  awkward  and  trying  situation,  and  as 
the  explanations  had  to  be  given  by  means  of  an  in 
terpreter  the  difficulties  were  increased.  But  the  mar 
vellous  tact  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk  was  here  shown.  He 
made  the  poor  prince  understand  thoroughly  that 
the  girl  had  been  treated  with  perfect  kindness,  that 
she  had  been  seen  alive,  well,  and  apparently  happy, 
only  the  day  before.  One  of  the  women  of  the 
anderOn  was  reported  as  having  heard  Agap£  declare 
that  she  should  not  wait  many  more  days  before  she 
set  off  for  "  Rum,"  as  they  called  the  Western  world, 
in  search  of  her  father.  So  the  belief  spread  that 
the  girl  had  taken  the  Aga  Zatym  and  set  forth  in 
the  utterly  foolhardy  errand  of  crossing  a  continent, 
—  climbing  snow-clad  mountains,  defying  the  dan 
gers  of  fierce,  wandering  tribes,  without  money  and 
without  defence.  The  wiser  ones  doubted  ;  but  the 
father,  learning  how  Agap6  had  hungered  and  thirsted 
to  see  him  once  more,  convinced  himself,  against  his 
better  judgment,  that  this  was  the  explanation. 

But  here  Omar  at  last  had  a  chance  to  talk  con- 


AN  EMBASSY  FROM  RUM.  2 1/ 

fidentially  with  the  Wazir.  He  had  tried  to  get 
word  with  him,  but  the  duties  entailed  by  the  enter 
tainment  of  the  Greek  ambassador,  and  by  the  dis 
tressing  disappearance  of  Agape,  had  kept  him  so 
busy  every  moment,  that  he  could  not  find  time  to 
see  his  friends.  When  he  and  Omar  were  alone, 
Omar,  with  perfect  frankness,  told  him  how  he  had 
twice  before  met  Agape,  at  her  request,  at  the  bustan, 
and  that  he  had  offered  to  take  her  as  his  wife.  He 
confirmed  the  story  of  the  girl's  intense  desire  to  go 
to  Hellas,  and  he  said  she  had  tried  to  persuade  him 
to  go  with  her.  She  was  to  have  met  him  the  very 
afternoon  of  her  disappearance :  he  went  to  the 
pavilion  and  waited  for  her  in  vain. 

"  It  would  have  been  wiser  to  confide  in  me,"  said 
Nizamu'1-Mulk,  with  a  mild  reproof  in  his  tone,  but 
he  added  :  "  However,  you  are  your  own  master,  and 
I  would  not  interfere  with  your  wooings.  Agape 
was  free  to  do  as  she  pleased,  and  I  do  not  forget 
that  I  myself  first  brought  her  to  you  there ;  though 
I  had  no  thought  of  such  serious  consequences." 

In  his  own  mind  he  coupled  Hasan's  sneaking  hint 
with  a  suspicion  that  the  wily  treasurer  knew  some 
thing  about  the  matter,  but  he  had  no  proof  of  it. 
The  mystery  was  as  yet  impenetrable.  He  decided 
that  he  would  try  to  learn  from  Hasan  what  he 
meant  by  his  malicious  reference  to  Omar,  and  if  he 
really  knew  anything  about  it.  But  Hasan's  secre- 


OMAR    THE    TENTMAJtER. 

tary,  his  preternatural ly  solemn  son,  informed  Ni- 
zamu'1-Mulk  that  "his  master,  the  treasurer,  had 
gone  to  Resht  on  business  connected  with  the  rev 
enue."  There  seemed  to  be  no  reason  to  doubt  this 
fact.  It  was  confirmed  by  others  in  the  Court. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE    BIRD    IS    NOT    EASILY    TAMED. 

HASAN  had  not  gone  to  Resht.  He  had  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  not  safe  any  longer  to 
keep  Agape  in  Nishapur,  and  he  resolved  to  take  her 
himself  to  Mashad  and  put  her  into  trusty  hands  in 
that  famous  city  of  pilgrimage.  It  required  all  his 
ingenuity  to  depart  from  Nishapur  with  his  prize 
without  attracting  attention  to  her  ;  for  by  this  time 
it  was  known  throughout  the  city  that  a  Greek  hos 
tage  had  disappeared  from  the  palace,  and  a  prize 
was  outstanding  for  information  about  her. 

Hasan  had  found  Agape  no  tractable  prisoner. 
When  he  went  to  visit  her  he  learned  not  a  little  as  to 
her  spirit  and  her  resolution.  But,  as  we  have  said, 
he  possessed  a  peculiar  power  over  men  and  animals, 
a  masterful  power  that  would  appear  later  in  Napo 
leon,  for  instance,  and  in  modern  scientific  terms  be 
called  "hypnotic."  Moreover  he  was  consummately 
crafty.  He  made  her  to  understand  that  she  was 
absolutely  in  his  power ;  that  though  she  might  rave 
and  scream,  it  would  not  hurt  any  one  but  herself ; 

219 


22O  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

no  one  could  or  would  come  to  her  aid  ;  on  the  other 
hand,  if  she  would  be  reasonable,  she  would  soon  be 
in  a  place  that  would  make  her  the  envied  of  all  the 
Orient. 

It  was  the  sense  of  her  utter  helplessness  that 
finally  bent  Agape's  will ;  so  that  when  Hasan 
brought  her  the  dress  of  a  youthful  pilgrim,  she,  with 
out  saying  a  word,  obeyed  his  command  and  arrayed 
herself  in  it.  At  midnight  she  was  compelled  to  set 
forth  with  him,  and,  under  the  threat  of  instant 
death,  if  she  uttered  a  cry  or  attempted  to  escape, 
she  accompanied  him  through  a  comparatively  unfre 
quented  gate,  the  keeper  of  which  easily  let  them 
pass,  supposing  from  their  garb  that  they  were  pil 
grims  bound  for  the  shrine  of  the  holy  Imam  Ali,  son 
of  Musa.  Outside,  horses  were  in  waiting,  and  by 
morning  Hasan  and  Agape,  accompanied  by  a  little 
band  of  men,  whom  he  had  brought  into  the  most 
unquestioning  obedience,  were  miles  away  from  the 
city  on  their  way  to  Mashad.  It  was  not  strange 
that  dread  and  terror  kept  her  from  uttering  a 
sound.  As  she  rode  on  in  the  darkness  the  scenes  of 
the  past  few  days  rose  before  her  like  a  succession 
of  frightful  visions.  She  saw  Hasan  as  he  came  in 
the  first  evening  of  her  imprisonment :  again  she 
felt  his  frightful  eyes  fixed  on  her,  and  seeming  to 
burn  through  her  very  soul.  She  had  tried  to  hide 
her  face  from  his  gaze,  but  he  compelled  her  to  face 


THE   BIRD   IS  NOT  EASILY   TAMED.          221 

him.  Then  in  that  deep,  powerful,  clear  voice  of  his, 
he  had  charged  her  with  being  Omar's  paramour. 

"  Thou  shalt  learn,"  he  said,  "that  the  fruit  of  sin 
is  bitterer  than  the  fruit  of  the  tree  Zakkum,  that 
grows  from  the  bottomless  pit." 

"Who  made  you  my  judge?"  she  had  demanded, 
with  her  spirit  all  in  flame  at  the  insult.  "What 
right  have  you  to  seize  me,  and  confine  me  in  this 
abominable  way  ? " 

And  Hasan,  whom  she  knew  by  sight,  laughed  with 
a  harsh,  grating  laugh  ;  it  still  rang  in  her  ears. 

"  I  make  myself  your  judge,  and  by  the  right  of 
power  I  hold  you,  and  you  shall  never  escape  from 
my  clutches.  You  shall  never  again  lie  in  the  arms 
of  that  kabr  kashida,  — that  infidel  scoffer  !  " 

Again  Agape  had  started  up  with  indignation  with 
a  hot  reply,  for  she,  being  Greek,  had  no  small  store 
of  reproachful  terms,  but  Hasan  would  not  allow  her 
to  speak.  Suddenly  changing  his  tone,  he  began  to 
flatter  her,  promising  her  that  if  she  would  forget 
that  imbecile  poet,  and  would  give  him  instead  the 
treasure  of  her  love,  he  would  wear  her  like  the 
Sultan's  jika,  the  very  jewel  of  his  crown  ;  for,  said 
he,  boastfully,  "  The  reins  of  fate  are  in  my  hands  ; 
before  I  finish  my  career  I  shall  drive  the  horses  of 
war  up  the  mountain-side  of  Fame." 

Agape,  young,  beautiful,  tender,  full  of  grace,  was 
in  his  clutches,  like  a  nightingale  in  the  claws  of  a 


222  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

hawk.  "You  are  absolutely  mine,"  he  said.  "You 
can  no  more  escape  than  the  new  moon  can  escape 
from  the  old  moon.  You  might  shriek  from  now 
till  the  day  of  doom,  you  are  helpless." 

Then  he  had  left  her  for  two  long  days  and  nights, 
left  her  in  the  silent  but  ceaseless  care  of  that 
dreadful,  tongueless  hag  who  could  not  communicate 
with  her  except  by  signs.  Not  another  soul  had  she 
seen  ;  she  was,  as  it  were,  buried.  Again  and  again 
she  tried  to  devise  some  means  of  escape ;  but  each 
time  her  fertile  brain  evolved  a  scheme,  she  found 
herself  blocked  by  the  forethought  of  Hasan,  and 
the  vigilance  of  the  old  woman. 

Then  he  had  appeared  once  more  in  the  same 
funest  and  domineering  way,  at  first  trying  to  coerce 
her  with  his  fixed  and  cruel  gaze,  then  working  on 
her  passions,  —  anger,  hatred,  terror,  and,  finally, 
apparently  softening  and  trying  the  wiles  of  his 
smooth  and  oily  flattery. 

The  arrival  of  the  Grecian  embassy  and  of 
Agape's*  father  had  put  a  different  face  on  mat 
ters.  Hasan  knew  that  he  could  not  long  keep 
up  the  secrecy  of  his  visits  to  the  girl ;  suspicion 
would  be  awakened,  and  if  Agape  by  any  means 
should  find  her  way  back  to  the  Court  his  plans 
would  quickly  be  dashed.  It  was  one  thing  to 
abduct  a  poor  orphan  girl,  whose  disappearance 
would  soon  be  forgotten ;  it  was  another  to  be 


THE   BIRD   IS  NOT  EASILY   TAMED.          22$ 

proved  guilty  of  having  kept  in  such  durance  the 
daughter  of  the  Prince  Kreiton,  who  was  in  favor 
with  the  Emperor  at  Byzantium,  and  had  produced 
such  a  favorable  impression  on  the  Sultan  that 
Malikshah  had  invited  him  to  remain  at  his  Court. 
He  had  taken  the  fatal  step  mainly  out  of  petty  spite, 
but  also  because  he  thought  the  girl  beautiful,  and  he 
had  preferred  to  have  her  rather  than  see  his  old 
schoolmate  enjoying  her  favors.  He  had,  therefore, 
to  choose  between  two  alternatives  :  to  take  her 
immediately  away,  or  to  send  her  to  the  city  of  non- 
existence.  The  first  seemed  to  him  expedient,  and 
he  made  his  plans  accordingly,  as  we  have  seen. 
He  left  Ostad-ben-Hasan  to  keep  watch,  and  in 
stantly  inform  him  if  anything  of  importance  should 
happen. 

A  still  more  impressive  lesson  of  Hasan's  evil 
temper  and  his  arbitrary  tyranny  was  given  just 
before  they  started,  and  this  vision  of  horror  kept 
arising  in  Agape's  mind,  making  her  shudder  and 
filling  her  with  hopeless  despair.  One  of  the  two 
Chinese  palankin-bearers  tried  to  escape.  He  was 
caught  and  hauled  roughly  back  before  Hasan,  who, 
without  giving  him  time  even  to  kiss  the  ground 
and  exhibit  his  regret,  stabbed  him  to  the  heart  with 
his  dagger.  Then,  flinging  the  dead  body  out  of  the 
room,  he  ordered  his  crouching  servitors  to  put  it 
into  a  sack  and  safely  dispose  of  it.  This  quick  and 


224  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

dreadful  deed  of  violence  made  the  impression  that 
Hasan  desired.  Every  one  present  was  given  to 
understand  that  no  ordinary  person  controlled  their 
destinies,  and  that  human  life  was  valueless  in  his 
eyes. 

This  scene  impressed  Agap£  most  painfully,  for 
Hasan  had  more  than  once  hinted  that  he  would 
not  spare  her  if  she  crossed  his  will.  Yet  not  for 
one  moment  during  all  the  time  of  that  long  and 
weary  night  journey  across  the  plain,  and  the  unre 
lentingly  rapid  ascent  of  the  mountains  in  the  early 
morning,  did  she  cease  to  plan  her  escape.  The  sight 
of  the  sun,  the  beauty  of  the  day,  kindled  the  dying 
embers  of  hope  in  her  heart.  She  had  faith  that 
Omar,  with  the  aid  of  the  Sultan  and  Niz^mu'l-Mulk, 
would  leave  no  stone  unturned  to  trace  her,  and 
bring  her  back  in  safety.  It  seemed  incredible  that 
Hasan  could  have  kept  so  perfectly  from  rumor  the 
mysterious  transactions  in  the  house  where  she  had 
been  imprisoned.  Wonderful  iris-winged  Hope !  how 
she  finds  her  way  into  the  darkest  hearts,  and 
lights  up  the  gloomy  recesses  with  her  joyous  radi 
ance  !  Without  her  life  would  be  a  dreary  waste. 
She  is  the  mirage  that  beckons  the  lost  and  weary 
traveller  onward,  and  sometimes,  though  not  always, 
brings  him  through  to  the  other  side  of  the  waste. 
So  now,  though  Agape  knew  not  what  was  going  to 
become  of  her,  nor  why  she  had  been  so  hastily 


THE   BIRD   IS  NOT  EASILY    TAMED.          22$ 

removed  from  Nishapur,  she  felt  less  heavily  the 
incubus  of  Hasan's  fierce  personality,  though  he 
never  for  a  moment  relaxed  his  hold  upon  her. 

As  for  him,  he  found  a  strange  delight  in  looking 
at  her  in  her  boy's  costume,  which,  in  his  eyes, 
rendered  all  the  more  fascinating  the  suggested  con- 
tours  of  her  pretty  form  ;  yet  no  casual  observer 
would  have  suspected  that  the  slender  fellow  dressed 
in  the  simple  pilgrim  garb,  and  mounted  on  the  hand 
some  horse,  was  a  Grecian  princess,  abducted  from 
the  Sultan's  anderun  !  Hasan  talked  little  with  her ; 
for  her  replies  were  not  encouraging  to  sprightly  con 
verse,  and  he  himself  was  too  deeply  concerned  with 
evolving  his  weighty  plans  to  indulge  in  sprightly 
converse.  Thus  they  rode  for  hours  without  ex 
changing  a  word.  Hasan  had  at  first  determined  to 
go  to  Isfahan  by  the  longest  and  speediest  possible 
stages,  to  leave  Agape  there  in  the  guardianship  of 
of  his  trusty  friend  Abul-fasl,  and  then  return  and 
perfect  his  plans  at  Nishapur  and  Marv ;  but  to 
Isfahan  it  was  a  long  and  difficult  journey,  and, 
especially  in  midsummer,  he  could  not  well  be  so 
long  absent,  so  he  had  arranged  to  leave  her  for  a 
brief  time  with  another  of  his  trusty  friends  at 
Mashad.  Here  he  could  easily  come  to  see  her,  and 
work  on  her  mind,  and  the  friend  would  willingly 
supplement  his  endeavors.  This  plan  had  accord 
ingly  been  agreed  on,  and  Ostad-ben-Hasan  knew 


226  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

where  he  could  find  his  father  for  a  few  days ;  for  he 
calculated  to  be  away  at  least  a  week. 

So  far  all  Hasan's  plans  were  working  admirably. 
He  reached  Mashad  safely,  and  found  his  friend 
there  prepared  to  do  his  bidding.  Hasan  gave  him 
to  understand  that  Agape"  was  his  wife,  whom  he 
was  disciplining  instead  of  divorcing. 

"Believe  nothing  she  says,"  were  his  words,  and 
the  friend,  a  stupid,  thick-headed  fanatic,  whom 
Hasan  had  impressed  with  a  sense  of  his  holiness, 
acted  accordingly.  Here  at  Mashad  Hasan  devoted 
himself  absolutely  to  winning  her  favor,  and  the 
genius  that  he  displayed  in  flattery  and  in  promises, 
in  doing  for  her  what  women  best  love,  and  in  bril 
liant  conversation,  amazed  even  Agape".  That  she 
was  not  somewhat  dazzled  by  Hasan's  pictures  of  his 
coming  greatness,  and  of  what  he  would  do  for  her, 
would  have  been  natural ;  but  she  could  not  forgive 
him  his  high-handed  abduction  of  her,  and  her  heart 
still  turned  to  Omar  as  the  needle  turns  to  the  pole. 
She  was  too  crafty  to  display  her  resentment,  or  to. 
let  Hasan  know  of  her  love  for  Omar.  She  thought 
by  apparently  yielding  somewhat  to  his  advances  she 
might  cause  him  to  relax  his  watchfulness  and  allow 
her  a  chance  to  escape.  She  was  no  longer  dressed 
as  a  boy-pilgrim,  but,  at  Hasan's  desire,  wore  the 
ordinary  costume  of  the  Persian  woman,  and,  being 
Greek,  it  mattered  not  to  her  whether  she  wore  the 


THE  BIRD   IS  NOT  EASILY   TAMED,          22/ 

veil  or  not,  nor  had  she,  as  a  Greek,  the  modern 
prudi§Ji  fear  of  displaying  natural  charms  ;  so  that  in 
the  somewhat  tenuous  costume  of  the  anderun,  she 
was  neither  self-conscious  nor  immodest.  On  the 
other  hand,  she  was  skilful  enough  to  avoid  all  undue 
familiarities,  and  she  kept  Hasan  at  a  distance.  He 
would  have  compelled  her  to  become  his  legal  wife 
had  he  not  desired  to  win  through  willingness  what 
he  was  wise  enough  to  despise  when  taken.  He 
had  only  a  few  days  to  spend  there  at  Mashad, 
for  a  long  absence  would  cause  suspicion,  so  he 
made  the  most  of  his  opportunities.  But  like  a  boat 
that  floats  down  stream  the  instant  the  rower  ceases 
to  row,  so  he  found  himself,  each  time  that  he  began, 
floated  down  where  he  had  begun  the  time  before. 
And  Agape,  with  a  childlike  innocence  which  was  the 
height  of  art,  thus  kept  her  wooer  like  the  lover  on 
the  Greek  vase.  He  made  no  progress,  and  yet 
seemed  to  himself  to  be  progressing.  Did  not  the 
famous,  wise  Penelope,  in  the  same  way,  for  years 
deceive  her  suitors  ?  Thus  went  several  days,  till 
suddenly  an  event  occurred  which  changed  all  their 
lives. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
HASAN'S  FLIGHT. 

IT  usually  happens  in  life  that  there  will  be  long 
stretches  of  uneventful  days ;  then,  in  quick  succes 
sion,  following  one  on  the  heels  of  another,  crises, 
excitements,  disasters,  triumphs  come. 

The  unusual  episode  of  an  embassy  from  Europe 
which  was  attended  with  cruel  disappointment  to 
one  member  of  it,  was  hardly  a  thing  of  the  past 
when  at  the  Arg  occurred  one  of  those  tragedies 
so  common  in  autocratic  courts  and  especially 
in  the  East.  The  pride  of  Sultan  MaHkshah's 
heart  was  his  young  son,  Berkiyarok,  a  graceful, 
black-eyed  boy  of  about  fifteen  years  of  age.  As 
the  heir  apparent  to  the  sultanate  he  was  being 
trained  as  carefully  as  was  possible  in  all  the  accom 
plishment  and  studies  of  the  day.  He  was  excellent 
in  riding  horseback  and  in  hunting,  and  in  all  the  ex 
ercises  with  sword  and  lance.  His  favorite  amuse 
ment  was  chugan  or  polo,  and  he  was  exceedingly 
skilful  in  it.  The  day  after  the  departure  of  the 
embassy,  Berkiyarok  was  matched  in  a  game  against 

228 


HASAN'S  FLIGHT.  22Q 

his  cousin  Ibrahim  Niyal.  It  was  an  exciting  game  : 
the  horses  were  full  of  life  and  agile  as  squirrels. 
The  ball  flew  into  the  middle  of  the  field,  and 
Ibrahim  Niyal  and  Berkiyarok  dashed  off  in  order  to 
intercept  it.  Then  happened  a  dreadful  thing  :  Ibra 
him,  perhaps  accidentally,  but  apparently  with  malice 
prepense,  dashed  violently  against  the  young  shah- 
zada  or  crown  prince  as  if  to  crush  him.  The 
prince's  pony  being  far  lighter,  was  knocked  over, 
and  the  boy  himself  was  thrown  headlong  and  fell 
heavily  on  the  ground.  He  was  picked  up  for  dead 
and  taken  to  the  palace. 

The  Sultan,  good-natured  as  he  ordinarily  was, 
now  showed  the  undercurrent  of  cruelty  that  flowed 
deep  down  in  his  soul.  He  was  convinced  that 
Ibrahim  Niyal  had  endeavored  to  kill  the  young 
prince  in  order  to  clear  the  way  for  himself  to  the 
throne.  Although  Berkiyarok  was  fortunately  not 
killed  but  only  stunned,  Mah'kshah  would  listen  to 
no  excuses.  He  immediately  deposed  Ibrahim  Niyal 
from  his  office  as  governor  of  the  Province,  and 
when  this  order  had  been  promulgated  he  had  two 
executioners  throw  him  on  the  ground  and  tear  out 
his  eyes.  The  Sultan  had  for  some  time  suspected 
his  nephew  of  harboring  undue  ambition  and  had 
been  warned  to  beware  of  him.  Such  domestic 
dramas  had  been  before  and  Mah'kshah  would  take 
no  chance.  Yet,  when  he  saw  the  bleeding,  eyeless 


230  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

sockets  of  the  young  man,  an  hour  before  so  bold  and 
handsome,  almost  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  he  groaned 
in  spirit  and  was  sorrowful ;  he  repented  of  his  harsh 
judgment,  but  done  was  done  and  now  he  was  safe. 
It  was  kept  perfectly  quiet ;  few  and  only  confiden 
tial  servants  knew  of  what  had  happened.  A  day  or 
two  later  Ibrahim  was  taken  to  Mashad  and  given 
over  to  the  guardian  of  the  sacred  shrine  of  that  city, 
who  was  to  take  care  of  him  till  he  was  well  again. 

Of  course,  Nizamu'1-Mulk  knew  about  this  bar 
barous  punishment ;  he  would  have  fain  stopped  the 
Sultan  from  carrying  it  out,  but  when  his  protest 
was  unavailing  he  was  wise  enough  to  hold  his 
peace.  But  when  Malflcshah  a  few  days  later  sud 
denly  decided  to  return  to  Marv  and  proposed  to 
make  Hasan  governor  of  the  Province  of  Khurasan 
in  place  of  Ibrahim  Niyal,  the  Wazir  had  no  hesita 
tion  in  advising  him  to  wait  a  little :  to  wait  at  least 
until  Hasan  should  have  returned  from  Resht. 

He  did  not  want  to  make  a  direct  charge  or  even 
to  hint  that  Hasan  had  been  the  one  to  whom 
Agape's  disappearance  was  due,  but  he  knew,  as  we 
have  said,  that  Hasan  had  managed  to  enrich  himself 
substantially  from  the  clippings  of  the  fleece,  in 
other  words,  by  his  cleverly  conducted  dealings  with 
the  tax  problem.  Nizamu'1-Mulk  did  not  wish  to 
appear  jealous,  especially  when  he  himself  had 
recommended  Hasan  to  preferment,  and  he  could 


IfASAN'S  FLIGHT.  2$  I 

not    help    confessing   that   the    new   treasurer    had 
accomplished  marvels  in  his  work. 

While  the  affair  was  thus  hanging,  a  great  excite 
ment  was  aroused  in  the  Court  by  the  arrival  of  the 
eunuch  Zalym.  He  still  showed  the  signs  of  his 
illness ;  one  could  see  at  a  glance  that  he  had 
undergone  a  trying  experience.  He  was  so  weak 
that  he  could  hardly  walk,  and  his  poor  little  squeaky 
voice  was  like  the  fluting  of  a  cicada.  But  when  he 
was  brought  before  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  and  told  his 
story  in  a  straightforward  way,  and  when  the  last 
part  of  it  was  confirmed  by  the  watchman  who  had 
taken  such  good  care  of  the  poor  fellow,  no  doubt 
remained  that  Zalym  was  telling  the  truth.  He 
could  not  explain  the  reason  of  the  assault ;  it  had 
been  so  sudden  that  he  had  no  idea  what  kind  of 
men  had  attacked  him.  His  appearance,  therefore, 
brought  with  it  no  clue  to  the  mystery ;  his  sorrow 
over  the  loss  of  Agape  was  so  genuine  that  not  a 
shadow  of  suspicion  rested  on  him  :  he  knew  no 
more  of  the  princess's  whereabouts  than  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  himself.  At  last  the  Wazir  asked  in  a  casual 
way  if  Omar  Khayyam  had  ever  seen  Agape.  Under 
the  pledge  of  the  strictest  secrecy  he  then  confirmed 
what  Omar  himself  had  told  the  Wazir.  She  was 
going  that  very  afternoon  to  meet  him.  At  first 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  was  tempted  to  express  himself 
pretty  bitterly  regarding  the  faithfulness  of  a  hajf 


232  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

bu'd  daula  who  went  off  to  river  pavilions  with  the 
ladies  of  the  anderun  and  let  them  meet  strange 
men !  But  when  he  saw  how  distressed  the  poor 
fellow  was,  how  conscience-stricken,  though  he  knew 
perfectly  well  the  fault  was  not  his,  he  did  not  press 
the  matter :  the  Wazfr  himself  would  have  been  the 
last  to  cast  the  first  stone !  Had  he  not  himself 
taught  Agape  the  way,  had  he  not  made  her  ac 
quainted  with  Omar,  had  he  not  wished  that  Omar 
should  like  the  girl  well  enough  to  take  her  for  his 
wife? 

He  took  another  course. 

"Do  you  remember  the  Treasurer  Hasan  ben 
Sabah  ?  "  asked  the  Wazlr. 

"  I  should  never  forget  his  eyes  !  They  seem  to 
burn  your  soul." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  him  talking  with  Agap£  ? " 

"No,"  replied  the  Aga  Zdl^m.  "He  has  never 
talked  with  her  or  spoken  to  her,  so  far  as  I  know." 

Then,  suddenly  remembering  what  had  happened, 
he  added  : 

"  But  one  day  he  stopped  me,  and  spoke  most 
impertinently  regarding  her." 

"  Can  you  repeat  what  he  said  ? " 

"  No  ;  but  the  substance  of  it  was  that  Agape" 
was  doing  wrong  in  meeting  Omar,  —  but  he  did  not 
say  much.  I  refused  to  listen  to  him,  and  he  was 
angry." 


HASAN'S  FLIGHT.  233 

Nizamu'l-Mulk's  quick  mind  saw  in  this  statement 
a  confirmation  of  his  suspicions.  He  resolved  to 
know  if  Hasan  was  in  Resht,  and  instantly  sent  a 
trusty  courier  to  investigate.  In  an  incredibly  short 
time  the  courier  returned,  and  reported  that  Hasan 
was  not  there,  and  had  not  been  there.  Happening 
a  little  later  to  be  called  into  consultation  with  the 
Sultan,  he  gently  hinted  that  perhaps  Hasan  ben 
Sabah  might  know  more  about  Agape  than  any  one 
suspected.  He  told  him  how  his  secretary  had  said 
that  he  had  gone  to  Resht,  but  that  he  was  not 
there.  Moreover,  he  now  craftily  mentioned  the 
fact  that  he  had  discovered  Hasan  taking  bribes  on 
the  right  and  on  the  left.  The  Sultan  was  furious. 
He  for  his  part  now  began  to  recall  the  derogatory 
remarks  that  Hasan  had  made  concerning  the 
Wazir ;  how  he  had  insinuated  more  than  once  that 
if  he  were  Wazir  things  would  be  managed  more 
economically,  or  with  greater  promptness.  In  fact, 
the  Sultan,  in  his  mind's  eye,  saw  Hasan  the  centre 
of  a  plot  in  which  Ibrahim  Niyal  was  the  figure 
head.  He  was  for  having  Hasan  instantly  arrested 
and  executed,  but  again  Nizamu'1-Mulk  counselled  a 
little  deliberation. 

"  Besides,"  he  said,  "  Hasan  is  not  in  the  city. 
He  went  ostensibly  to  Resht  on  business  connected 
with  the  revenue,  and  it  is  time  now  for  his  return. 
Let  us  send,  and  ask  his  secretary." 


234  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

To  this  the  Sultan  offered  no  objection,  and 
Hasan's  son  was  summoned.  He  showed  the  great 
est  coolness  and  address  in  all  his  replies,  betraying 
no  uneasiness  or  hesitation,  seeming  to  have  implicit 
faith  in  Hasan.  The  Sultan,  however,  in  trying  to 
extort  some  damaging  information  regarding  the 
treasurer,  nearly  lost  his  temper  ;  and,  as  we  have 
seen,  when  that  happened,  he  was  apt  to  be  relent 
less  and  cruel.  But  he  only  threatened  to  have 
Ostad-ben-Hasan  tortured,  and  when  the  young  man 
V  showed  no  change  in  his  preternaturally  solemn 
face,  and  no  apparent  dread  of  anything  that  might 
happen  to  him,  the  threat  was  not  carried  into  exe 
cution.  It  is  certain  that  no  torture  would  have 
extorted  an  incriminating  word  from  his  lips. 

MaHkshah,  however,  in  his  conduct  of  the  exami 
nation  said  enough  to  awaken  Ostad's  apprehensions, 
and  as  soon  as  he  was  dismissed,  he  wrote  a  full 
account  of  all  the  circumstances,  and  sent  it  to  his 
father  by  a  trusty  messenger,  as  had  been  agreed  on 
between  them. 

The  next  morning  he  became  perfectly  convinced 
his  father  would  be  arrested  the  moment  he  returned 
to  the  city.  With  all  secrecy  and  exactness,  with 
a  shrewdness  worthy  of  his  origin,  he  succeeded  in 
penetrating  the  designs  of  the  Sultan  ;  he  learned 
that  the  Court  was  going  to  return  very  shortly  to 
Marv,  that  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  persuaded  the  Sultan 


HASANS  FLIGHT.  235 

to  appoint  Omar  the  governor  of  Nishapur,  and  that 
Hasan  ben  Sabah  was  to  be  put  to  death.  Ostad 
even  learned  that  the  nominal  charge  against  him 
would  be  of  permitting  irregularities  in  his  accounts, 
but  that  he  was  suspected  of  being  concerned  in  the 
disappearance  of  Agape.  He  knew  that  Hasan 
might  return  at  any  moment,  and  that  the  utmost 
despatch  was  requisite  in  order  to  prevent  the  x 
catastrophe.  He  therefore  gathered  together  his 
few  effects,  secured  a  horse,  and  set  forth  by  the 
caravan  route  to  Mashad. 

Hasan  had  already  received  his  missive,  and  was 
naturally  somewhat  alarmed,  but  when  he  saw  his 
son  appear,  bathed  in  perspiration  from  his  swift 
ride,  he  realized  that  not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost. 
His  only  hope  was  to  reach  Isfahan  as  soon  as  pos 
sible,  and  find  an  asylum  with  Abul-fasl. 

It  chanced  that  a  caravan  was  just  about  starting 
for  Isfahdn,  and  as  the  journey  was  long  and  dan 
gerous,  Hasan  resolved  to  join  it  in  his  usual  and 
familiar  guise  of  a  pilgrim  who  had  been  visiting 
Mashad-i-mukaddas,  —  Mashad  the  Holy,  —  the 
shrine  of  the  great  Imam.  When  he  thought  of 
the  chances  that  he  might  have  had  as  treasurer 
of  Iran  to  enrich  himself,  he  regretted  that  he  had 
abducted  Agape,  but  then  he  saw  that  his  initial  mis 
take  had  been  in  giving  rise  to  any  possible  suspicion 
of  his  financial  rectitude.  He  should  have  waited  till  V 


236  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

he  was  actually  treasurer ;  then  his  opportunities 
would  have  been  vastly  enlarged.  But  he  comforted 
himself  for  his  ignominious  flight  by  the  thought  that 
he  had  in  Isfahan  the  means  for  furthering  his  am 
bitions.  There  was  no  use  of  indulging  in  regrets. 
He  had  surely  sacrificed  another  brilliant  chance, 
this  time  by  his  own  folly  ;  he  would  take  the  lesson 
to  heart,  and  next  time  be  wiser.  Even  as  he  came 
to  this  conclusion,  sprouted  the  germ  of  the  idea 
which  from  this  time  grew  in  his  mind  like  the 
deadly  upas-tree. 

Henceforth  there  was  no  hesitation  in  his  course, 
no  doubt  as  to  its  ultimate  success.  How  he  suc 
ceeded  history  tells.  But  now  the  one  necessary 
thing  was  to  escape  before  Malflcshah's  kazaki 
should  arrive  and  apprehend  him.  He  made  the 
report  current  that  he  had  gone  the  day  before  on 
business  to  Habushan,  in  exactly  the  opposite  direc 
tion  from  Isfahan,  and  then,  the  time  having  come  to 
start,  he  went  to  get  Agape1.  Ostad-ben-Hasan  had 
started  on  to  the  caravanserai,  where  the  company 
of  pilgrims,  merchants,  and  camel-drivers  were  to 
assemble.  A  disagreeable  surprise  awaited  Hasan  : 
Agape  was  not  to  be  found.  Not  a  sign  of  her  was 
visible. 

No  time  was  to  be  lost,  but  Hasan  made  a  search 
for  her  in  every  room  ;  she  had  vanished.  With 
deep  curses  he  hastened  to  the  stable,  and  here 


HASAN'S  FLIGHT.  237 

another  disagreeable  surprise  followed  on  the  heels 
of  the  first.  His  favorite  horse  was  gone.  He 
thought  it  possible  that  Ostad  might  have  taken  it, 
but  when  he  joined  him  at  the  rendezvous  his  hope 
was  dashed.  He  was  obliged  to  content  himself  with 
an  inferior  steed,  and  to  go  without  his  prize.  His 
disappointment  was  bitter,  and  it  seemed  to  him  for 
a  moment  that  the  struggle  before  him  was  hardly 
worth  while  after  all,  that  he  might  as  well  give  in 
to  his  misfortune,  let  the  Sultan's  men  capture 
him,  and  then  throw  himself  on  Mali'kshah's  mercy, 
appealing  to  Nizamu'l-Mulk's  friendship.  But  the 
caravan  was  starting ;  the  long  line  of  heavily  laden 
camels  was  already  heading  for  the  desert,  and  the 
guards  were  hurrying  up  the  stragglers.  Hasan, 
without  saying  a  word,  let  himself  be  drawn  along. 
The  die  was  cast. 

Six  hours  later  the  Sultan's  kazakl  came  dashing 
into  Mashad.  They  scoured  the  place,  but  when 
they  were  informed  that  Hasan  had  departed  the  day 
before,  they  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  use 
less  to  follow  him.  Perhaps  Nizamu'1-Mulk  was  not 
any  too  anxious  to  have  Hasan  brought  back  to 
undergo  the  punishment  which  he  would  have  been 
powerless  to  prevent. 

Agape  had  not  for  an  instant  given  up  her  design 
of  escaping  at  the  first  possible  moment.  The  ar 
rival  of  Ostad's  warning  letter,  followed  by  Ostad 


238  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

himself,  had  thrown  the  whole  household  into  excite 
ment.  As  a  great  wind  on  the  ocean  causes  a  rest 
less  rising  and  falling  of  the  water  in  the  harbor,  so 
even  in  the  quiet  shelter  of  the  anderun  was  felt  the 
reflex  of  this  storm  that  threatened  Hasan.  Agap£ 
knew  not  what  the  trouble  was,  but  she  surmised 
that  it  concerned  herself;  she  thought  it  possible 
that  Hasan,  after  his  sudden  departure  from  Nisha- 
pur,  might  have  been  tracked  by  the  Sultan's  spies. 
This  surmise  was  strengthened  by  Hasan's  coming 
to  her  in  evident  perturbation  and  ordering  her  to 
exchange  her  woman's  costume  once  more  for  the 
pilgrim  garb  that  she  had  worn.  She  obeyed,  and 
tied  into  a  bundle  all  her  other  clothes.  Then  for  a 
moment,  and  for  the  first  time  since  her  arrival  at 
Mashad,  she  was  left  alone.  She  thought  she  saw 
in  this  her  opportunity  ;  she  slipped  out,  and,  to  her 
amazement  and  delight,  met  no  one  in  the  court. 
Hasan's  horse  was  waiting  at  the  door.  Agap£, 
without  saying  a  word,  but  with  a  charming  air  of 
authority,  took  the  reins  from  the  groom's  hands  and 
leaped  into  the  saddle  as  if  the  whole  had  been  pre 
arranged.  By  the  time  Hasan  appeared  she  was  far 
away  and  beyond  his  reach. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

PRINCE    AND    POET. 

PRINCE  KREITON  refused,  at  the  last  moment,  to 
go  back  to  Byzantium  with  the  embassy.  He  still 
hoped  against  hope  that  his  daughter  might  be 
found,  and  his  form  and  sad  face  became  familiar  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Nishapur,  who,  contrary  to  their 
reputation,  treated  him  with  respect  as  he  went 
about  the  streets,  looking  for  the  lost.  At  Court 
he  was  an  honored  guest,  and  everything  was  done 
to  appease  his  grief,  to  give  him  comfort,  to  aid  him 
in  the  prosecution  of  his  search. 

A  close  friendship  sprung  up  between  him  and 
Omar.  It  was  a  consolation  to  him  to  talk  with  the 
poet  about  Agape.  Omar  told  him  how  she  had 
hungered  for  her  beautiful  distant  fatherland,  with 
its  marble  mountains  and  turquoise  sea  ;  how  she 
was  constantly  planning  to  go  and  find  out  whether 
her  father  was  still  living.  He  praised  the  girl's 
sweet  and  sunny  nature,  and  her  intellectual  su 
periority,  her  wit  and  knowledge. 

It  pleased  the  prince  to  talk  with  Omar  about  the 
239 


240  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

ancient  Greek  authors  which  Agape  had  loved  to 
study  under  his  guidance.  Every  little  thing  about 
her  which  Omar  could  tell  was  as  balm  to  the  poor 
man's  soul,  and  Omar  never  wearied  of  hearing  the 
prince  tell  of  Agape' s  childhood  and  girlhood.  Such 
a  relationship  between  a  father  and  a  daughter  was 
new  to  Omar's  experience,  but  it  appealed  to  the 
chivalry  of  his  nature. 

As  the  days  went  on,  with  still  no  news  of  Agape1, 
the  prince's  heart  grew  heavier,  but  at  the  same 
time  he  was  supported  by  his  Christian  philosophy, 
and  it  pleased  him  to  talk  with  Omar  about  that, 
and  to  compare  it  with  the  epicureanism  which 
Omar  himself  professed.  Omar  made  surprising 
progress  in  speaking  Greek,  and  he  found  great 
delight  in  hearing  the  prince  repeat  Homer  and  the 
noble  passages  from  the  dramatic  poets.  The 
prince  was  interested  in  Omar's  astronomical  appa 
ratus,  and,  like  true  philosophers,  the  two  men,  in 
their  discussions  on  mathematics,  poetry,  and  re 
ligion,  often  forgot  for  a  time  the  ever  present 
anxiety  about  Agape. 

When  it  became  evident  that  Hasan  had  disap 
peared  with  Ostad  as  mysteriously  as  he  had  first 
appeared,  when  messengers  despatched  to  various  of 
the  principal  towns  of  Khurasan  brought  no  tidings, 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  determined  to  make  one  more  effort 
to  get  a  clue  to  their  whereabouts.  He  succeeded 


PRINCE   AND  POET.  241 

in  finding  the  house  in  Mashad,  where  Hasan  had 
lodged,  and  he  established  beyond  a  doubt  the  fact 
that  a  woman  corresponding  to  Agape  had  accom 
panied  him  thither.  It  required  drastic  measures  to 
extort  even  this  information  from  the  owner  of  the 
house  in  Mashad.  The  man  was  a  willing  tool  to 
Hasan,  who,  whatever  his  other  mistakes  in  action, 
never  failed  to  select  with  consummate  good  judg 
ment  the  agents  of  his  powerful  will.  The  Wazir 
got  also  one  important  additional  item  of  fact,  and 
that  was  that  Hasan  had  taken  his  departure  from 
Mashad  without  Agape.  Whither  the  vanished 
treasurer  had  gone  he  either  could  not  or  would 
not  tell,  though  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  the  man  confined 
and  threatened  with  the  loss  of  all  he  possessed. 

Agape,  then,  was  alive,  but  where  was  she  ? 
What  had  become  of  her  ?  She  slid  from  one 
darkness  of  mystery  into  another :  she  appeared 
like  a  star  on  a  night  of  storm,  when  it  shines  out 
for  an  instant  not  clearly,  but  dimly,  from  behind  a 
dense  cloud,  only  to  be  swallowed  again  and  seen  no 
more.  But  the  fact  that  she  was  alive,  or  had  been 
alive  even  after  they  had  begun  to  mourn  for  her 
as  forever  lost  to  them,  was  a  comfort  to  all  of 
them. 

Meantime  reasons  of  state  recalled  Mah'kshah  to 
his  capital  at  Marv.  News  had  come  of  the  success- 
•ful  spread  of  his  troops  eastward,  even  to  the  Chi- 


242  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

nese  wall.  This  conquest  having  been  accomplished, 
he  was  now  anxious  to  turn  his  attention  to  the 
west.  Parts  of  Asia  Minor  were  won  during  the 
reigns  of  Togrul  Beg  and  Alp  Arslan,  as  Prince 
Kreiton  had  known  to  his  cost,  but  the  complete 
reduction  of  the  country  was  now  to  be  finished  by 
Malikshah.  The  arrangements  for  this  great  cam 
paign  were  to  be  made  at  Marv,  and  the  Sultan  was 
anxious  to  begin  the  work  as  soon  as  possible.  He 
regretted  his  summary  treatment  of  Ibrahim  Niyal, 
and  still  more  the  necessity  for  it,  for  his  nephew 
had  administered  the  Province  of  Khurasan  with 
ability.  He  regretted  Hasan  ben  Sabah's  defection, 
for  he  recognized  in  him  a  man  of  marvellous 
capacity.  He  was  ready  to  appoint  Omar  governor 
of  the  Province  or  of  the  city,  and  during  a  con 
versation  with  him,  proposed  that  he  should  take 
Ibrahim  Niyal's  place. 

"  I  have  every  confidence  in  you,"  said  the  Sul- 

tdn,  "and  I  should  feel  greatly  reassured  to  have 

the  Province  left  in  such  able  hands." 

But  Omar  remarked,  wisely  and  well : 

"  The  sun  of  your  Majesty's  favor  shines  brightly 

on  me.     I  kiss  the  ground  at  your  feet,  but  beg  to 

be  excused  from  this  honor;  for   though   I    would 

gladly  serve  you  in  any  capacity,  and  give  my  life 

freely,  still  my  ability  does  not  lie  in  administration 

but  in  scientific  work  ;  and,  moreover,  as   I  am  cor- 


PRINCE   AND   POET.  243 

dially  detested  by  all  the  Mollahs,  —  and  I  cordially 
reciprocate  their  feelings,  —  I  should  not  succeed 
in  the  lofty  position  to  which  your  Majesty  would 
propose  to  call  me." 

The  Sultan  instantly  recognized  the  propriety  of 
Omar's  objections,  and  said  nothing  further  in  regard 
to  it.  Nevertheless  the  rumor  spread  that  Omar 
was  to  be  appointed  governor,  and  created  great 
excitement,  especially  among  the  priestly  and  more 
bigoted  classes,  who  felt  that  religion  was  insulted 
by  such  an  appointment.  Some  of  the  Mollahs, 
headed  by  Al-Ghazzali,  even  went  to  Nizamu'1-Mulk 
and  protested  against  appointing  an  infidel  and 
scoffer  to  rule  over  them  ;  and  a  mob  of  the  more 
unruly  citizens  collected  in  front  of  Omar's  house, 
and  uttered  some  threats  against  him.  But  the 
Wazir  assured  the  "Proof  of  Islam"  that  the  ap 
pointment  was  not  made,  and  Omar  himself  appeared 
with  perfect  unconcern,  at  his  house  door,  and  made 
the  mob  a  clever  address,  as  his  manner  was,  and 
with  such  eloquence  and  wit  that  the  crowd  was 
restored  to  good  humor,  and  dispersed  without 
doing  any  harm. 

This  rumor  got  into  history  however,  and  in 
some  of  the  biographies  of  Omar  it  may  be  read  that 
Malikshah  appointed  him  governor  of  Nishapur. 
But  the  Sultcln  assured  Omar  that  he  would  not  for 
get  the  scheme  of  revising  the  calendar,  and  that  as 


244  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKKK. 

soon  as  the  arrangements  could  be  made,  he  would 
send  for  him. 

A  week  later  the  new  Governor  of  Khurasan  was 
appointed.  He  was  Malikshah's  youngest  brother, 
who  had  been  serving  with  distinction  in  the  great 
campaign  that  had  served  to  spread  the  sway  of  the 
Seljuk  Turks  over  wide  and  populous  provinces 
hitherto  boasting  their  independence.  He  was 
w  sharp,  abrupt,  incisive,  with  a  stiff,  military  carriage ; 
a  man  accustomed  to  be  obeyed,  and  well  adapted  to 
control  Nishapur,  of  whom  it  used  to  be  said  by  its 
enemies  :  "  Stranger,  beware,  lest  thou  go  to  Nisha 
pur,  for  in  that  town  neither  merit  nor  lineage  is  a 
safeguard,  and  the  respect  due  to  human  nature  is 
ignored." 

The  Sultan  especially  commended   Omar   to  his 

friendship,  and  the  poet  found  him  ever  a  firm  and 

judicious   patron   and    protector,    especially    in    his 

later  years,  when  he  needed  shelter  from  the  storms 

y      of  fanaticism  that  raged  through  Nishapur. 

Prince  Kreiton  decided  not  to  go  with  the  Court 
to  Marv,  but  to  wait  until  he  should  know  some 
thing  definite  about  Agap£.  He  felt  that  if  she 
were  alive  she  would  surely  return  to  Nishapur,  and 
he  wished  to  be  there  to  receive  her.  Moreover,  he 
found  more  consolation  in  being  with  Omar,  who  was 
able  to  converse  with  him  and  to  enter  into  his 
feelings,  than  at  Court,  in  spite  of  all  the  Sultan's 


PRINCE   AND   POET.  245 

kindness.  Mah'kshah  readily  consented  to  this,  and 
granted  the  prince  an  ample  allowance  for  his 
expenses. 

When  all  these  things  were  decided,  the  day  was 
set  for  the  departure  of  the  Court.  Early  in  the 
morning  the  great  drums  at  the  Arg  were  beaten, 
and,  with  the  promptness  characteristic  of  the 
Wazir,  the  imposing  procession  started  on  its  way. 
The  streets  were  lined  with  picturesque  throngs, 
gathered  to  see  the  departure  of  the  Shahinshah,  as 
the  Persians  called  their  ruler.  It  was  a  fiery,  hot 
summer's  day,  and  the  people  gathered  in  dense 
crowds  around  the  chief  masjid,  where  a  preliminary 
service  was  to  be  held.  When  this  was  over,  and 
all  the  ceremonies  were  fulfilled,  the  long  succession 
of  stately  horses,  proud  of  their  distinction,  and 
with  their  embroidered  trappings,  and  splendidly 
decorated  saddles,  the  ungainly  camels,  disdainfully 
bearing  their  heavy  loads,  the  sumpter  mules,  with 
tinkling  bells,  the  palankins,  from  whose  windows 
curious  eyes  gazed  stealthily  forth,  and  all  the  multi 
tude  of  retainers  and  servants  passed  through  the 
Shamali  Dar,  or  North  Gate,  and  the  visit  of  Malik- 
shah  to  Nishapur  was  at  an  end. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE    PASSING    OF    A    FLOWER. 

NEARLY  three  years  had  passed  away.  Once 
more  it  was  early  summer  in  the  beautiful  valley 
of  Nishapur.  The  roses  were  all  in  bloom,  and  the 
breeze  was  fragrant  with  the  breath  of  a  myriad 
flowers,  —  mignonette,  violets,  lilies,  and  forget-me- 
nots,  poppies,  acacias,  and  fruit-trees,  the  jujube 
and  mango,  the  pipal-tree  and  peaches,  plums  and 
cherries. 

On  a  faultless  day  two  men  were  sitting  together 
on  a  terrace,  overlooking  the  garden  of  a  pleasant 
house  in  the  city. 

One,  a  stately  man  grown  old  before  his  time,  for 
he  was  not  more  than  sixty,  was  speaking  in  a  mel 
ancholy  tone : 

"  Nay,  I  have  at  last  given  up  hope.  Years  have 
passed,  and  not  a  sign  of  my  daughter." 

And  he  shook  his  lion-like  head,  with  its  mane  of 
snowy  hair,  and  sighed  deeply. 

The  other,  laying  his  hand  affectionately  on  the 
old  man's  arm,  said  : 

246 


THE   PASSING    OF  A    FLOWER.  24? 

"Agap£  heard  not  from  you  for  four  years,  and 
still  she  did  not  despair.  May  it  not  be  that  she 
found  some  unexpected  means  of  going  to  Athens  in 
search  of  you  ?  " 

"Oh,"  said  Prince  Kreiton,  "that  is  impossible. 
She  would  not  have  left  you  so  inexplicably  without 
a  word." 

And  Omar's  heart  knew  that  the  prince  was  right. 
But  again,  and  for  the  hundredth  time,  he  went  over 
the  old  argument :  Agape  had  undoubtedly  been 
abducted  by  Hasan  ben  Sabah ;  she  had  been  with 
him  at  Mashad  ;  when  Hasan  left  Mashad  she  did  not 
accompany  him.  That  was  all  that  was  definitely 
known.  She  had  probably  tried  to  escape  from 
Hasan,  and  had  perhaps  been  — 

But  this  probability  Omar  never  liked  to  acknowl 
edge.  He  could  not  bear  to  think  of  the  fair  and 
beautiful  girl  captured  and  enslaved  by  the  rude 
barbarians  of  the  mountains.  This,  of  course,  was 
the  most  natural  hypothesis,  and  so  emissaries  had 
long  before  been  sent  up  among  the  Bukharians 
and  Turkmans,  and  other  fierce  tribes  among  the 
mountains,  offering  a  large  reward  for  the  Greek 
girl's  return.  It  had  been  all  in  vain.  Nothing  had 
been  heard  about  her,  and  it  was  now  going  on  the 
third  year  since  her  disappearance.  The  old  prince 
had  long  before  made  up  his  mind  that  in  making 
her  escape  from  Hasan  she  had  attempted  to  cross 


248  OMAK    THE    TEMMAKEK. 

the  mountains,  and  fallen  over  some  precipice  and 
perished.  He  tried,  at  least,  to  deceive  his  paternal 
pride  into  accepting  such  a  fate  for  his  daughter, 
rather  than  to  imagine  her  subject  to  a  living  death. 

Just  at  this  moment  a  shrill  scream  in  the  street 
startled  the  two  men.  It  was  a  woman's  voice. 
Omar,  followed  by  the  prince,  rushed  to  the  door 
of  the  house,  and  saw  two  men,  dressed  in  the  Turk 
man  costume,  dragging  away  a  young  and  slender 
youth.  There  was  something  so  familiar  about  him 
that  Omar's  heart  gave  a  bound  ;  darting  down  the 
street,  he  overtook  the  men. 

It  was  Agape ! 

At  the  sight  of  Omar,  she,  with  almost  superhu 
man  force,  tore  herself  away  from  the  two  men,  and 
threw  herself  into  his  arms.  The  Turkmans,  with 
angry  and  threatening  gestures,  attempted  to  snatch 
her  away  again,  but  when  they  saw  the  prince 
appearing,  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  Kadi,  they 
desisted,  and,  with  a  torrent  of  words,  seemed  to 
appeal  to  him  for  justice.  It  would  have  been  a 
comedy  if  it  had  not  been  so  tragic.  As  usual, 
a  crowd  began  to  collect.  Fortunately  Omar  saw, 
among  the  persons  hurrying  up,  a  young  Persian 
who  had  once  been  among  the  Turkmans,  and 
had  a  considerable  knowledge  of  their  language. 
Calling  him  as  interpreter,  he  brought  Agap£  and  the 
two  Turkmans  into  the  court  of  his  house.  Then, 


THE   PASSING   OF  A    FLOWER.  249 

for  the  first  time,  Agape  caught  sight  of  her  father, 
and  at  the  same  instant  he  recognized  the  poor  girl. 
It  was  too  much  for  her  ;  she  swooned  away,  the 
words,  "  O  phile  pater !  "  dying  on  her  lips. 

Omar's  mother  now  appeared,  and  took  charge  of. 
Agape.  Through  'Abdul  Faru-'din,  Omar  learned 
from  the  Turkmans  that  they  had  brought  the  youth 
to  the  slave  market  of  Nishapur,  with  the  intention 
of  selling  him  ;  but  that  he  had  broken  loose,  and 
fled  like  a  deer. 

Omar  asked  why  they  had  wanted  to  sell  him. 
They  replied  that  he  was  no  good ;  not  strong 
enough  to  work. 

"  What  would  they  sell  him  for  ?  " 

They  would  undoubtedly  have  asked  a  high  price 
if  they  had  realized  the  relationship,  and  the  ex 
traordinary  reunion,  —  how  they  would  have  leaped 
with  joy  had  they  known  of  the  reward  that  they 
might  have  claimed !  But  they  supposed  that  Omar, 
out  of  good  nature,  was  buying  the  run-away  slave, 
and  they  named  a  reasonable  sum,  which  Omar  did 
not  even  try  to  diminish.  The  transaction  was 
speedily  consummated,  and  the  two  Turkmans,  de 
positing  in  their  pouches  the  purchase-money,  which 
was  in  silver,  and  bowing  with  a  certain  graceful 
condescension,  took  their  departure. 

When  Omar  went  to  his  mother's  room  he  found 
that  Agape  had  recovered  her  consciousness,  and  was 


25O  OMAK    THE    TENTMAK'LR. 

lying  on  the  divan  with  her  head  pillowed  on  her 
father's  breast.  He  was  inexpressibly  shocked  at 
the  poor  child's  appearance ;  his  eyes  filled  with 
tears  ;  a  sob  choked  him  ;  he  could  not  speak.  There 
was  no  need  of  her  telling  her  experiences.  The 
story  of  her  sufferings  was  written  on  her  waxen 
cheek,  her  bloodless  lips,  in  the  wide,  pathetic  gaze 
of  her  ever  beautiful  dark  brown  eyes. 

Ziba-khanum  quickly  prepared  for  her  some 
tempting  food,  and  Omar,  going  to  his  storeroom, 
brought  her  a  cup  filled  with  choicest  wine. 

Her  spirit  was  not  all  gone.  In  her  weak,  trem 
bling  voice  she  said,  as  she  took  it  into  her  trans 
parent  hands,  quoting  the  words  of  the  old  Greek 
epigram  : 

" '  How  was  I  born  ?  Whence  am  I  ?  Why  did  I 
come  ?  To  depart  again.  How  can  I  who  know 
nothing  learn  anything  ?  Being  naught,  I  was  born. 
I  shall  be  again,  as  I  was  before.  The  tribe  of  the 
voice-dividers  is  naught.  But  come,  give  me  the  joy- 
bestowing  stream  of  wine !  For  this  medicine  is  the 
antidote  of  ills  ! ' ' 

Omar  never  forgot  those  melodious  words,  and 
afterwards,  long  afterwards  he  imitated  them  in  more 
than  one  of  his  rubaiyat 

It  was  evident  to  Omar's  mother  that  the  girl  could 
not  live  long.  Familiarity  with  sickness  and  death 
had  made  her  wise.  But  Omar  saw  only  the  pathos 


"  THE   STORY    OF    HER    SUFFERINGS    WAS    WRITTEN    ON 
HER    WAXEN    CHEEK." 


THE   PASSING    OF  A    FLOWER.  25  I 

of  the  change  in  his  beloved  Agape",  and  dreamed 
that  now  she  was  safe,  and,  reunited  to  those  who 
loved  her  and  would  care  for  her,  she  would  be 
restored  to  her  ordinary  health.  Prince  Kreiton 
also  was  blinded  by  his  joy  and  surprise.  It  had 
been  seven  years  since  he  had  left  Agape  at  Bagdad, 
and  he  had  expected  great  changes  in  her.  Her 
sufferings  had  not  aged  her,  but  had  reduced  her 
flesh  and  made  her  more  like  the  child  he  re 
membered. 

She  was  too  weak  to  talk  much.  The  extraor 
dinary  strength  she  had  shown  in  escaping  from  the 
Turkmans  had  been  like  the  exertions  of  one  suf 
fering  from  a  fever  and  had  brought  the  inevitable 
reaction.  All  she  could  do  was  to  lie  patiently 
with  a  look  of  unutterable  peace  and  happiness  on 
her  pale,  sweet  face,  a  shadowy  smile  on  her  lips, 
and  such  love  in  her  eyes !  She  never  wearied  of 
looking  at  her  father,  or  at  Omar,  who  would  sit  for 
hours  by  her  side  holding  and  caressing  her  delicate 
hand. 

Not  before  a  week  had  passed  did  she  feel  like 
telling  them  of  her  dreadful  experiences,  and  then 
in  such  little  chapters  that  it  was  long  before  they 
learned  the  whole.  She  told  it,  as  it  were,  back 
wards,  giving  some  of  the  last  details  first,  but  when 
she  had  finished,  and  they  knew  how  false  Hasan 
had  been,  and  how  he  had  held  out  to  her  such 


25 2  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKEK. 

glittering  but  delusive  inducements  to  be,  like  him, 
false  to  her  friends  and  her  love,  they  execrated  him 
as  a  traitor  and  villain. 

Agape' s  account  of  her  escape  from  him  stirred 
them  to  admiration  at  her  quickness  of  plan  and 
action.  We  already  know  how  she  eluded  her 
watchful  guardian  and  rode  off  on  his  favorite  horse. 
She  had  nothing  with  which  to  buy  food ;  she 
had  only  one  change  of  attire :  the  Persian  dress 
which  she  had  just  exchanged  for  the  pilgrim  garb. 
She  was  an  utter  stranger  in  Mashad,  and  knew  not 
whither  to  turn  or  what  to  do.  But  her  one  fear 
at  the  time  was  of  being  overtaken.  So  she  rode 
on  boldly  as  if  she  knew  her  way.  The  pilgrim 
garb  frees  from  much  idle  curiosity,  and  though 
her  horse  was  a  beautiful  creature,  and  covetous 
glances  were  cast  at  it,  her  right  to  it  was  not 
challenged.  She  knew  by  the  sun  the  general  direc 
tion  of  Nishapftr,  and  she  thought  that  if  she  once 
struck  the  caravan  route  she  should  recognize  it. 

She  hoped  that  she  might  catch  up  with  some  cara 
van  travelling  over  the  mountains.  She  rode  on  and 
rode  on,  and  the  city  of  pilgrimage  was  far  behind 
her.  The  great  golden  ball,  weighing  sixty  mans, 
that  glittered  over  the  tomb  of  the  great  saint,  the 
Imim  Razwa,  vanished  from  sight.  The  night  ap 
proached  ;  she  was  famished  ;  she  had  nothing  suit 
able  with  which  to  feed  the  noble  animal  that  had 


THE   PASSING    OF  A    FLOWER.  2 53 

borne  her  so  faithfully.  She  tethered  him  to  a  bush, 
gathered  some  of  the  wild  kerta  grass  that  grew 
abundantly  on  the  mountain-side,  and  she  herself  slept 
on  the  ground.  The  next  morning  she  found  a  flow 
ing  spring  of  sweet  water,  and  plenty  of  mulberries 
and  other  small  fruits.  She  still  pushed  on,  being 
now  evidently  in  the  regular  caravan  road. 

Suddenly  she  was  surrounded  by  armed  men. 
She  could  not  understand  a  word  they  said,  but 
they  made  her  prisoner  and  bore  her  off  to  a 
remote  little  hamlet  far  up  on  the  mountain.  It 
was  evidently  a  robbers'  den,  held  by  a  few  outlaw 
Turkmans.  Thinking  that  their  prisoner  was  a 
young  boy,  they  made  her  tend  their  sheep,  and, 
though  they  treated  her  harshly  and  often  struck 
her,  she  found  her  lot  preferable  to  the  refined 
insolence  and  poisoned  flatteries  of  Hasan.  She 
knew  that  it  was  absolutely  essential  for  her  happi 
ness  to  keep  the  secret  of  her  sex  from  her  cap 
tors,  and  she  succeeded  for  two  years,  during  which 
time  she  was  out,  exposed  to  all  kinds  of  weather, 
the  bitter  cold  of  winter  and  the  intolerable  heat 
of  summer.  For  a  time  the  exposure  had  seemed 
to  strengthen  and  toughen  her,  but  at  last  the  la 
bors  that  the  Turkmans  had  added  to  her  share 
little  by  little,  the  care  of  the  horses  and  the  daily 
wandering  with  the  herds,  often  with  insufficient 
food,  had  broken  her  health,  and  at  last  the  Turk- 


254  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

mans  had  sent  two  of  their  number  down  to  Nish- 
apur  to  sell  her  as  a  slave. 

How  she  had  rejoiced  when  she  saw  the  familiar 
bazir  once  more !  She  knew  that  Omar's  house  was 
not  far  away,  and  she  had  staked  all  on  a  quick  and 
sudden  flight,  hoping  that  she  might  find  the  door 
open  and  dart  in,  thus  eluding  her  pursuers.  They, 
like  every  one  else,  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  gentle 
youth,  and  the  escape  had  been  easier  than  she  had 
expected  it  would  be.  But  when  they  overtook  her 
at  the  very  door  and  began  to  drag  her  back  again 
to  the  slave  mart,  she  felt  that  it  was  of  no  use  to 
make  any  further  struggle. 

Now  what  peace  she  enjoyed,  lying  under  the 
shade  of  the  palm-trees  on  Omar's  terrace,  looking 
down  into  the  lovely  little  garden,  listening  to  the 
tinkle  of  the  fountain,  and  having  Omar  and  her 
father  by  her  side !  It  is  the  nature  of  some  per 
sons  to  go  through  the  fire  of  sorrow  and  trouble  and 
to  come  forth  unchanged,  or,  if  changed,  sweetened 
and  purified.  So  it  was  with  Agap^'s  remarkable 
spirit.  Trial  and  disappointment,  long  years  of  wait 
ing,  and  now  lassitude  and  illness,  could  not  dim  the 
brightness  of  her  mind,  the  gentleness  of  her  dispo 
sition,  the  warmth  of  her  love.  She  was  like  gold 
from  the  refiner's  fire.  But  it  was  more  and  more 
evident  as  the  days  went  on  that  she  was  slowly 
fading  away.  There  was  no  suffering,  except  from 


THE   PASSING    OF  A   FLOWER.  2$$ 

weariness ;  she  did  not  like  to  move ;  but  she  made 
no  complaint  and  did  her  best  to  seem  bright  and 
cheerful.  She  always  had  a  winning  smile  for  the 
aged  Ziba-khanum,  who  worshipped  her  and  could 
not  do  enough  for  her.  Above  all,  she  enjoyed  hav 
ing  her  father  and  Omar  sit  by  her  side  and  talk 
about  Greek  and  Persian  poetry.  Omar  had  become 
skilled  enough  in  Greek  to  give  Prince  Kreiton  some 
notion  of  the  great  epic,  the  Shah-namah,  or  Book 
of  Kings,  and  Agape  above  all  liked  to  hear  him 
repeat  the  charming  lines  about  Zerdusht  and  how 
he  reared  before  the  palace  of  King  Gushtasp  a 
magic  tree  with  beautiful  foliage  and  branches, 
whereof  if  any  one  ate  he  became  learned  in  all 
the  mysteries  of  the  future,  and  the  fruit  thereof 
made  men  perfect  in  wisdom  and  holiness ;  and 
she  liked  to  hear,  also,  of  the  prowess  of  Isfendiyar 
in  the  battle  between  Gushtasp  and  Arjasp,  the 
sovereign  of  Chin,  who  led  an  army  of  demons 
into  Iran.  Then  the  two  men  would  discuss  the 
comparative  merits  of  Homer  and  Firdausi. 

As  the  summer  days  passed,  even  to  listen  to 
pleasant  talk  became  too  great  an  effort  for  her. 
She  was  content  to  recline  on  the  soft  pillows  and 
let  her  father  or  Omar  merely  fan  her.  But  one 
day  she  was  roused  to  greater  animation.  Omar 
had  immediately  sent  to  Marv  the  news  of  Agape's 
return  and  a  brief  account  of  all  the.  circumstances. 


256  OMAR    THE    TENTMAh'ER. 

Both  the  Sultan  and  VVazir  happened  to  be  away, 
but  on  Nizamu'l-Mulk's  return,  when  he  found  a 
second  missive  from  Omar  telling  of  her  long  and 
patiently  borne  illness,  he  immediately  set  out  for 
Nishapur.  Agap£  was  overjoyed  to  see  her  old 
friend  and  protector  once  again.  The  flickering 
candle  of  her  life  for  a  little  while  burned  up 
quite  steadily,  and  they  all  felt  encouraged,  except 
Omar's  wise  mother,  who  saw  in  her  renewed  ani 
mation  only  the  hectic  fever  of  excitement.  She 
was  right.  That  same  evening  the  reaction  came, 
and  the  light  fell  so  low  that  it  seemed  as  if  it 
would  go  into  darkness.  But  she  lingered  on  for 
several  days  more,  conscious  to  the  last,  affection 
ate  and  thoughtful.  She  asked  that  the  little  scroll 
containing  the  poems  that  Omar  had  written  for  her 
might  be  laid  on  her  breast  and  buried  with  her. 
And  so  she,  like  so  many  others,  — 

"  The  loveliest  and  best 
That  Time  and  Fate  of  all  their  Vintage  prest"  — 

faded  finally  away.  The  same  Death  that  took 
Zenophile  and  Zoe,  Heliodora  and  Melissa,  from 
their  lovers,  took  also  Agape  from  those  who  loved  her. 

"  Alas,  that  Spring  should  vanish  -with  the  Rose  ! 
That  Youth's  sweet-scented  Manuscript  should  close  ! 

The  Nightingale  that  in  the  Branches  sang. 
Ah,  whence  and  whither  flown  again,  who  knows  f  "  * 

1  E.  FitzClerald's  paraphrase. 


THE   PASSING    OF  A    FLOWER. 

Thus  sang  Omar  a  little  later.  To  him  death  had 
no  terrors.  He  saw  its  sad,  pathetic  side,  not  as  men 
do  who  mourn  as  if  there  were  no  hope  of  immor 
tality  ;  neither  with  the  fatalism  of  the  ancients,  who 
regarded  life  as  the  dearest  gift  of  the  gods,  and  its 
loss  as  the  greatest  of  all  losses.  "  Rather  would 
I  live  above  the  ground  as  another's  slave,  with  a 
landless  man  that  had  no  means  of  livelihood,  than 
bear  sway  among  all  the  dead  that  are  gone,"  said 
Homer,  through  the  mouth  of  Achilles.  But  Omar's 
attitude  toward  death  and  life  was  indifference.  The 
material  heaven  promised  by  Muhammad,  the  river 
Kausar  running  with  its  store  of  celestial  wine  and 
milk,  the  Tuba-tree  of  happiness,  the  promiscuous 
crowd  of  Huar,  waiting  on  the  couches  of  the  Faith 
ful,  —  all  this  was  to  him  like  the  "  thunder  of  a  dis 
tant  drum."  Nor  was  the  material  heaven  pictured 
to  the  Christian  any  more  attractive,  with  its  golden 
streets  and  many  mansions,  its  golden  candlesticks 
and  magical  trees.  He  could  say  with  calm  indif 
ference  :  "  To  one  who  understands  the  mysteries 
of  the  world,  the  joy  and  sorrow  of  the  world  are  of 
equal  account ;  since  the  good  and  the  bad  of  the 
world  will  come  to  an  end,  what  matter,  since  it 
must  end  ?" 

The  death,  then,  of  the  Greek  girl  whom  he  loved 
was  a  part  of  the  order  of  the  universe.  The  pen 
had  written  at  the  creation  of  the  world  that  it  must 


258  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

be  so;  it  was  one  more  arrow  shot  by  the  bow  of 
Fate.  But  deeply  as  he  felt  it,  —  for  Agap£  had 
been  dear  to  his  heart,  —  he  was  not  one  to  be 
crushed  by  it.  If  it  were  better  not  to  have  been 
born,  and  better  still,  for  one  who  had  been  unfor 
tunate  enough  to  be  born,  to  go  away,  even  though 
the  absolute  silence  of  the  grave  was  never  broken 
by  any  one  of  the  myriads  who  had  passed  behind 
the  veil ;  so  then  he  could  only  envy  Agap£,  who 
now  perhaps  knew  in  a  single  instant  of  eternity 
more  than  he  with  all  his  learning,  which  was 
naught,  could  know  in  a  lifetime  of  terrestrial  ex 
istence. 
He  sang : 

"  /  am  not  the  man  to  dread  my  non-existence, 
For  that  half  seems  pleasanter  to  me  than  this  half; 

This  is  a  life  which  God  has  lent  me, 
I  will  surrender  it  when  the  time  of  surrender  comes.'"  * 

Perhaps  Omar,  as  a  scientific  man,  was  more 
curious  and  envious  of  Agap£'s  marvellous  trans 
formation  than  he  was  afflicted  by  it.  There  she 
lay,  perfectly  pure  and  beautiful,  and  yet  cold  and 
statue-like.  On  her  lips  the  same  patient  smile ;  but 
the  eyes  had  no  recognition  for  father  or  lover.  No 
sound  would  ever  again  come  from  her  sweet  mouth. 
Yet  only  a  few  brief  moments  before  the  animating 
soul  was  there  !  Where  had  it  gone  ? 

1  E.  Heron  Allen's  translation. 


THE   PASSING   OF  A   FLOWER.  2 59 

"  Earth  could  not  answer ;  nor  the  Seas  that  Mourn 
Inflowing  Purple,  of  their  Lord  forlorn  ; 

Nor  rolling  Heaven,  with  all  his  Signs  revealed 
And  hidden  by  the  sleeve  of  Night  and  Morn.'1'1 

And  as  he  looked  at  Agape,  this  thought  came 
to  him  : 

"  Why,  if  the  Soul  can  fling  the  Dust  aside, 
And  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride, 

Were't  not  a  shame  —  were't  not  a  shame  for  hint 
In  this  clay  carcase  crippled  to  abide  ? 

" '  Tis  but  a  Tent  where  takes  his  one  day^s  rest 
A  Sultdn  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest ; 
The  Sultan  rises,  and  the  dark  Farrash 
Strikes  and  prepares  it  for  another  guest.'1''  x 

Feeling  as  he  did  about  his  own  death,  he  could 
not  without  hypocrisy  fail  to  recognize  that  all  was 
for  the  best.  His  philosophy,  in  other  words, 
supported  him. 

Nevertheless,  at  the  funeral,  when  the  dear  form 
was  deposited  in  the  guristan,  or  graveyard,  his  phi 
losophy  served  him  as  an  unsteady  staff.  The  im 
mense  pathos  of  the  young  life  that  had  vanished 
forever  suddenly  came  over  him,  and  he  had  to  turn 
away  and  choke  down  the  sobs  that  arose  from  his 
heart.  A  great  warm  heart  beat  in  his  bosom,  and 
from  that  heart  had  been  taken  away  what  could 
never  again  be  replaced. 

1  E.  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


260  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Prince  Kreiton  would  have  taken  her,  if  he  could, 
to  Athens,  where  he  knew  she  would  have  loved  to 
lie,  but  it  was  impossible,  and  equally  impossible  to 
mark  her  last  resting-place  with  a  suitably  carved 
marble  tomb  from  the  Grecian  quarries.  But  the 
mountains  near  Nishapur  furnished  marble,  and 
NizcLmu'1-Mulk  procured  a  skilful  carver,  and  a 
beautiful  little  mausoleum  was  erected  to  the  mem 
ory  of  Agap£. 

The  prince,  her  father,  remained  a  few  weeks 
longer ;  then  he  bade  Omar  an  affectionate  fare 
well.  They  had  become  warm  friends,  and  Omar 
found  it  hard  to  think  that,  in  all  probability,  they 
would  never  meet  again.  An  opportunity  came  for 
him  to  join  a  caravan  going  to  the  Caspian  Sea. 
From  there  he  could  with  comparatively  little  diffi 
culty  make  his  way  to  Byzantium. 

So  from  Omar's  life  vanished  the  romance  that 
still  gleams  in  his  poems  with  a  pale,  rosy  reflection 
like  a  fading  sunset. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A    NEW    ERA. 

GREAT  victories  had  accompanied  the  Sultan 
Mah'kshah's  arms  in  the  west  as  well  as  in  the  east. 
The  standard  of  the  Seljuk  Turks  was  carried  far 
beyond  the  Jaxartes ;  and  the  savage  tribes  of 
Turkestan  yielded  their  allegiance.  Even  the  Tar 
tars  on  the  borders  of  China  placed  his  effigy  on 
their  coins,  and  acknowledged  him  as  their  ruler  when 
on  their  holy  days  they  gathered  in  their  temples. 
Multitudes  of  rich  and  prosperous  cities  paid  him 
tribute:  "From  the  Chinese  frontier,"  says  Gibbon, 
"he  stretched  his  immediate  jurisdiction  or  feudatory 
sway  to  the  west  and  south,  as  far  the  mountains 
of  Georgia,  the  neighborhood  of  Constantinople,  the 
holy  city  of  Jerusalem,  and  the  spicy  groves  of 
Arabia  Felix."  Such  a  wide  and  beneficent  reign 
had  not  been  known  in  Asia  since  the  time  of 
Alexander  the  Great.  All  the  internal  dissensions, 
which  always  characterize  reigns  where  the  right 
of  primogeniture  is  not  firmly  established,  had  been 
quieted,  and  peace  reigned  from  the  Chinese  wall  to 

261 


262  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  Sultan  was 
now  ready,  under  the  stimulating  influence  of  Nizam- 
u'l-Mulk,  to  confer  the  blessings  of  culture  and 
refinement  wherever  his  victorious  arms  prevailed. 

The  Wazir  recalled  to  Malikshah  his  promise  to 
bring  about  the  reform  of  the  calendar  under  Omar's 
superintendence.  The  time  seemed  favorable  for 
such  a  momentous  change,  and  a  messenger  was 
despatched  to  Nishapur,  to  bear  to  Omar  the  farman 
that  established  his  new  commission,  and  bring  him 
to  Marv. 

It  came  most  opportunely.  Omar's  aged  mother 
had  just  died,  and  he  was  sitting  gloomy  and  alone 
in  his  deserted  house,  trying  to  cheer  himself  in  com 
posing  a  quatrain  which  should  express  this  unusual 
mood.  But  it  did  not  go,  and  he  tried  another  with 
a  more  optimistic  turn  : 

"Like  river-waters  and  like  wind  of  the  waste 
Passes  another  day  with  eager  haste  ; 
I  will  not  mourn  for  two  days  at  least : 
The  day  not  come  and  the  day  that  is  pas/." 

It  was  not  like  him  to  be  gloomy  long.  He  had 
too  many  occupations,  and  when  one  is  busy  the  sor 
rows  of  life  do  not  press  so  darkly.  But  associated 
with  the  death  of  Ziba-khanum  came  back  the 
remembrance  of  Agap£.  The  summer  was  over; 
the  roses  had  done  blooming ;  the  chill  winds  were 
beginning  to  blow  down  from  the  mountains. 


A    NEW  ERA.  263 

The  darkness  of  the  shrouded  sky  seemed  to  let 
through  no  light.  At  such  times,  if  ever,  a  man  is 
justified  in  melancholy  retrospections.  The  phan-  / 
toms  of  the  Past  rise  before  him  :  the  faces  of  those 
whom  he  has  loved  and  who  have  vanished  behind 
the  veil  seem  to  hover  in  the  shadows,  almost  pal 
pable  and  yet  evanescent  like  forms  in  fleeting  „ 
clouds.  Lost  opportunities  renew  their  glamour 
mockingly.  It  requires  all  one's  philosophy  to  throw 
off  depression  when  one  sits  alone  in  one's  ancestral 
home,  out  of  which  has  just  passed  the  dear  mother 
full  of  years  and  honor.  It  must  be ;  'tis  the  lot  of 
all,  and,  being  the  lot  of  all,  is  for  the  best.  And  yet 
the  heart  hungers  for  what  it  has  lost.  Morbidness 
easily  takes  possession  of  one  at  such  times. 

Omar  needed  at  this  moment  the  stimulus  of 
change.  He  had  not  as  yet  adjusted  himself  to  the 
new  conditions,  and  his  mind  was  restless  and  intro-  l^ 
spective.  He  was  sitting  thus  before  a  lighted 
brasier  one  day  toward  the  end  of  the  joy-killing 
month  of  Ramazan.  A  knock  at  the  door  aroused 
him.  It  was  the  messenger  from  Nizamu'1-Mulk. 
He  brought  Omar  the  letters,  and  in  addition  a  beau 
tiful  warm  cloak  lined  with  the  fur  of  the  jerboa,  so 
that  in  crossing  the  mountains  he  might  not  suffer 
from  the  cold. 

The  invitation,  which  of  course  from  the  Sultan 
amounted  to  a  command,  was  the  electric  shock  that 


264  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Omar  needed.  He  was  instantly  awake  and  alert. 
It  needed  no  long  preparation.  He  had  few  things 
to  put  away,  few  things  to  take  with  him.  The 
complicated  paraphernalia  of  a  modern  traveller  were 
then  unknown.  Dismissing  the  one  Chinese  servant 
with  an  extra  coin,  and  leaving  his  house  in  the  gen 
eral  care  of  a  neighbor,  he  fastened  the  door,  and 
within  an  hour  after  the  arrival  of  his  summoner 
he  was  mounted  on  a  strong  horse  and  well  on  his 
way  to  Marv. 

Marv,  situated  in  the  great  oasis  beyond  the 
mountains  northeast  of  Nishapur,  was  the  jewel 
of  the  desert,  and,  like  Tadmor,  a  crown  of  beauty 
for  the  Sultan's  brow.  It  was  intersected  by  four 
wide  and  splendid  canals,  supplied  with  water  from 
the  Murg-ab,  or  Bird  River.  Lined  with  palaces, 
these  waterways  gave  the  city  a  peculiarly  rich  and 
magnificent  aspect.  There  were  three  great  mosques, 
whose  tapering  minarets  and  bulbous  domes,  embow 
ered  in  trees,  made  a  noble  and  picturesque  vista  for 
the  eager  traveller,  approaching  through  the  level 
sea  of  the  wide-stretching  desert.  Here,  as  in  Nish 
apur,  under  the  stimulus  of  the  Wazir,  who,  says  the 
Arabian  writer,  Ibn  Khallikan,  was  "the  ornament 
of  his  age,"  schools  and  colleges  flourished ;  no 
less  than  ten  libraries  collected  the  works  of  the 
poets  and  historians  ;  and  the  new  Nizamyieh,  or 
university,  founded  by  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  was  beginning 


A    NEW  ERA.  265 

to  give  the  very  best  object-lesson  of  what  it  was 
then  believed  true  education  should  be. 

Omar  was  conducted  directly  to  the  palace.  He 
found  it  more  magnificent  than  anything  that  he  had 
ever  before  seen.  Here  were  collected  the  spoils  of 
a  hundred  cities,  —  great  gates,  encrusted  with  pearls 
and  precious  stones,  swung  on  noiseless  hinges ; 
thrones  and  chairs  of  ebony  and  ivory,  carved  by 
the  cunning  hands  of  Eastern  artists,  were  scattered 
about  in  profusion  ;  magnificent  rugs  of  the  softest 
colors  were  spread  on  floors  of  curiously  designed 
mosaics ;  hundreds  of  costly  pieces  of  armor,  taken 
from  conquered  pashas  and  princes,  were  disposed 
about  the  walls,  where  also  the  horns  of  innumerable 
deer,  mounted  on  brazen  plates,  betrayed  the  Sul 
tan's  love  for  the  noble  art  of  venery.  Here,  also, 
were  trophies  of  the  victory  won  by  the  Turks  over 
the  Greek  Emperor  Romanus.  A  thousand  servants 
—  pages,  grooms,  and  men  in  waiting  —  executed 
the  vast  hospitality  of  the  Sultan,  and  anticipated  the 
slightest  desire  of  even  the  humblest  guest. 

As  soon  as  Omar  was  suitably  lodged,  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  took  counsel  with  him  regarding  his  assistants 
in  the  great  work  of  revising  the  calendar. 

"  In  reality,"  said  the  Wazir,  "  it  seems  to  me  that 
you  are  perfectly  capable  of  doing  this  work  by 
yourself,  without  any  assistance.  But  there  will 
be  less  danger  of  jealous  criticism  and  open  oppo- 


266  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKEK. 

sition,  if  it  is  known  that  the  new  calendar  is  recom 
mended  by  a  Commission  consisting  of  seven  or 
eight  of  the  wisest  men  in  the  Sultanate." 

"  That  is  true  wisdom,"  said  Omar.  "  The  mere 
mathematical  calculation  of  the  days  and  hours 
might  be  done  by  a  schoolboy,  but  Islam  might 
see  some  danger  in  accepting  a  new  method  of 
reckoning  time,  devised  by  a  man  whom  the  Faithful 
love  to  call  Niikuam-ne-bud,  —  not  of  good  name. 

"  '  Not  always  over  my  nature  can  I  prevail,  —  but  what  can 

I  do? 
From  my  actions  I  suffer,  and  often  I  fail,  —  but  what  can 

I 


he  added,  quoting  the  first  couplet  of  one  of  his 
quatrains. 

NizAmu'1-Mulk  laughed. 

"Tis  fortunate  that  you  have  a  friend  in  power 
that  understands  you,"  said  he  ;  "  'tis  fortunate,  also, 
that  Mah'kshah  is  a  man  of  liberal  views.  Had  the 
Sultln's  brother  Kadir  Beg  prevailed,  when  he  beat 
the  kettle-drums  of  revolt,  and  swept  like  dust  over 
the  land,  you  would  have  found  a  different  master. 
We  owe  Allah  thanks  !  But  whom  would  you 
suggest  as  your  assistants  on  the  Commission  ?  " 

"  Might  it  not  be  well  to  raise  the  number  to  two 
and  seventy,  —  one  from  each  of  the  warring  sects  ?  " 

"  I  fear  they  would  tear  one  another  to  pieces." 

"  Yes,"  said  Omar,  "  one  of  the  Seniviye  and  one 


A   NEW  ERA.  267 

| 

of  the  Maniviye  engaging  in  a  quarrel  over  dualism 
would  perhaps  involve  all  of  us  in  a  pitched  bat 
tle." 

"  Eight,  or  perhaps  at  most  twelve,  —  one  from 
each  of  the  universities, — will  suffice  to  give  dignity 
to  whatever  recommendations  may  be  agreed  on. 
But  would  it  not  be  well  to  have  the  general  scheme 
already  laid  down  before  the  members  of  the  Com 
mission  assemble  ? " 

"I  have  it  all  elaborated,"  said  Omar.  "Prince 
Kreiton,  before  he  departed  for  Rum,  took  the  keen 
est  interest  in  the  scheme,  and  he  aided  me  in  several 
important  particulars." 

"  Think  you  he  might  have  been  prevailed  on  to 
join  the  Commission  ?  "  asked  the  Wazir. 

"  Possibly.  But,  since  the  question  is  complicated 
by  the  damnable  prejudices  of  our  race,  who  would 
have  distrusted  him,  I  doubt  if  it  would  have  been 
wise.  Personally,  I  should  prefer  him  to  any  one 
whom  Allah  might  send." 

"True!"  said  Nizamu'1-Mulk.  Then,  after  pon 
dering  a  moment,  he  asked,  "  Have  you  any  prefer 
ences  ? " 

"  Ma  sha'  Allah  !  "  exclaimed  Omar,  with  a  comic 
shrug  of  his  shoulders.  "  If  I  select  the  like  of 
myself,  there  will  be  woes  !  And  if  I  select  my 
opponents,  I  shall  be  in  a  hopeless  minority.  But 
I  should  like  Nizami  Uruzf  of  Samarkand.  He 


268  OMAK    THE    TENTMAKER. 

promises  to  do  great  things  in  poetry,  and  his 
abilities  will  shine  in  this  work." 

"  I  will  leave  it  to  you  to  select  your  assistants," 
said  Nizamu'1-Mulk. 

"  The  responsibility  is  great.  There  are  few  men 
equal  to  Nizami,  —  Kassara'llahu  am  sala-hum  !  may 
God  increase  their  like !  " 

"Take  your  own  time,  and  when  you  have  de 
cided,  let  me  have  the  list  and  I  will  procure  the 
Sultan's  assent." 

Omar  immediately  set  about  the  important  matter 
of  selecting  the  members  of  the  Commission.  It 
would  have  been  easy  for  him  to  gather  about  him 
a  little  coterie  of  agreeable  and  talented  men  who 
should  blindly  follow  his  lead,  and  accept  whatever 
he  might  dictate.  It  would  have  been  easy  for  him 
to  manage  so  as  to  arrogate  all  the  credit  of  the 
great  innovation.  But  he  was  guided  by  a  higher 
motive  than  self-seeking.  Scientific  men  have  in  all 
time  been  willing  to  sacrifice  their  own  comfort  and 
to  prefer  the  triumph  of  the  Truth,  as  they  saw  it, 
to  any  personal  advantage.  The  old  false  story  of 
Archimedes,  at  the  siege  of  Syracuse,  bidding  the 
Roman  soldier  not  to  disturb  the  circles  which  he 
had  drawn  in  the  sand,  is  typical  of  the  scientist's 
mental  attitude.  The  bloody  sword  in  the  hands  of 
Ignorance  or  Fanaticism  absolutely  fails  to  disturb 
the  wise  man's  serenity  or  faith  in  his  theories. 


A    NEW  ERA.  269 

So  Omar,  utterly  ignoring  possible  unfriendli 
nesses,  chose  his  men  with  an  eye  single  to  their 
abilities.  He  took  his  time,  as  the  Wazir  advised, 
and  as  there  were  all  sorts  of  distractions,  and  the 
easy-going  ways  of  the  Orient  were  conducive  to 
procrastination,  several  months  elapsed  before  all 
the  arrangements  for  the  assembling  of  the  Com 
mission  were  completed. 

At  last,  however,  Omar  was  enabled  to  report  to 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  that  everything  was  ready. 

According  to  the  old  manner  of  reckoning,  "the 
irregular  course  of  the  lunar  months  "  was  taken  as 
the  basis  of  time,  but  the  intercalary  days  had  been 
neglected,  and  the  result  was  that  the  date  of  spring 
was  coming  absurdly  near  to  the  domain  of  winter. 

According  to  Omar's  scheme,  which,  when  it  was 
brought  before  the  Commission,  instantly  appealed 
to  their  common  sense,  the  year  was  divided  into 
proper  months,  with  an  apt  apportionment  of  days, 
so  that  the  errors  of  the  past  and  the  future  were 
reduced  to  a  minimum. 

The  absurd  custom  of  the  Urgurish-Turkish  cycle 
of  twelve  years,  named  in  succession  after  the  Mouse, 
the  Ox,  the  Leopard,  the  Hare,  the  Crocodile,  the 
Serpent,  the  Horse,  the  Sheep,  the  Monkey,  the 
Hen,  the  Dog,  and  the  Pig,  was  done  away  with.  In 
place,  then,  of  the  awkward  and  inaccurate  system 
which  had  lasted  so  many  generations,  there  was 


2/0  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

substituted  a  method  of  reckoning  time  which 
was  simple  and  free  from  complications.  This  new 
calendar,  called  Tarikh-i  Jelali,  after  the  dynasty 
to  which  Malfkshah  belonged,  was  officially  promul 
gated,  and  became  the  law  of  the  Sultanate.  It  always 
excited  the  admiration  of  the  historians,  and  Gibbon, 
writing  about  it  long  years  afterwards,  declared  that 
its  accuracy  surpassed  the  Julian,  and  approached 
that  of  the  Gregorian  style. 

The  manifold  details  of  this  work  occupied  the 
long,  hard  winter,  and  when  spring  again  showed 
the  white  hand  of  Musa  on  the  bough,  the  Sult&n 
resolved  to  celebrate  the  completion  of  it  by  a  grand 
pilgrimage  to  Makka.  Such  a  brilliant  and  splendid 
expedition  of  piety  had  never  before  been  known.  It 
consisted  of  the  whole  Court  and  hundreds  of  tribu 
tary  rulers,  and  all  of  their  vassels.  Not  less  than 
a  thousand  princes  sat  daily  at  his  table,  and  the 
cost  of  maintenance  was  defrayed  by  the  generous 
Sultan.  Over  twenty-five  thousand  splendid  horses 
and  an  innumerable  multitude  of  camels  stretched 
out  the  interminable  line  of  the  caravan  as  it  pro 
ceeded  across  the  desert.  Ample  provision  for  the 
comfort  and  convenience  of  the  pious  multitude  was 
made  in  advance,  and  for  years  to  come  pilgrims 
blessed  the  memory  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  whose  thought- 
fulness  provided  so  many  places  of  refreshment  for 
man  and  beast.  At  Makka,  where  the  most  impos- 


A   NEW  Elf  A.  271 

ing  ceremonies  were  performed,  and  at  Bagdad, 
where  the  Sultan  stopped  on  his  return,  munificent 
donations  of  alms  were  distributed. 

The  title  of  Hajji  is  given  to  those  who  have 
accomplished  the  visit  to  the  Ka'aba ;  never  before 
did  the  title  become  so  common.  Even  Omar  Khay 
yam,  little  though  he  cared  to  claim  the  credit  for  a 
pious  act  performed  in  such  a  wholesale  manner,  was 
not  sorry  to  visit  the  sacred  city  under  auspices  so 
favorable.  Except  in  dress,  which  of  course  con 
formed  to  the  conventional  pattern,  there  was  noth 
ing  about  this  pilgrimage  that  spoke  of  renunciation. 
The  open  table  kept  by  the  Sultan,  who  welcomed  to 
it  the  humblest  of  the  pilgrims,  the  easy  stages  by 
which  they  travelled,  the  chances  for  delightful 
talk,  the  gaiety  of  entertainment,  —  everything  com 
bined  to  make  the  journey  a  vast  junket.  It  cer 
tainly  availed  to  divert  Omar,  who  found  in  the 
changing  scenes  and  in  the  varied  throng  an  endless 
source  of  study  and  amusement. 

At  Bagdad  the  students  of  the  universities,  and 
especially  those  who  were  engaged  in  the  study  of 
Greek  philosophy,  which  at  his  suggestion  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  had  added  to  the  curriculum,  flocked  to  see  the 
celebrated  Hakim,  or  doctor,  the  fame  of  whose 
exploits  had  spread  throughout  the  realm.  Omar 
did  not  care  to  be  lionized,  and  he  modestly  kept 
himself  as  far  as  he  could  in  the  background.  He 


2/2  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

did  not  refuse  to  meet  the  literati  of  Bagdad,  nor  did 
he  shut  the  door  in  the  face  of  his  admirers,  as  some 
of  his  enemies  asserted.  Nor  was  it  true,  either, 
that  he  took  advantage  of  his  easily  acquired  repu 
tation  of  a  Hajji  to  impose  on  his  acquaintances  a 
belief  that  he  had  become  more  orthodox.  He 
returned  as  he  went,  the  same  keen-minded,  wise, 
liberal,  noble-hearted  poet  and  philosopher  that  all 
who  knew  him  loved. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

THE    MAKING    OF    A    PROPHET. 

HASAN  BEN  SABAH  was  not  molested  during  his 
journey.  Nevertheless  he  deemed  it  expedient  not 
to  go  immediately  to  Isfahan,  lest  he  might  be 
tracked  thither.  Accordingly,  he  and  his  son  man 
aged  to  elude  observation,  and  quietly  dropped 
behind.  Then  the  two  struck  off  to  the  town  of 
Kerej,  situated  about  sixty  farsakh  from  Isfahan  in 
the  hill  country  of  Irak.  This  was  the  seat  of  the 
Arab  family  of  Al  Ijli,  whose  possessions  in  camels 
and  date-palm  plantations  and  other  estates  were 
beyond  estimation.  Hasan  ben  Sabah  knew  the 
head  of  this  family,  and  he  had  no  hesitation  in 
going  boldly  to  him  and  demanding  hospitality. 
This  was  freely  accorded,  and  Hasan  and  Ostad 
found  themselves  comfortably  established  in  the 
patriarchal  mansion  of  the  old  sheikh.  Here  they 
abode  for  several  months.  There  happened  to  be 
also  staying  at  Al  Ijli's  house  an  Arab  called  the 
Refik  Emir  Dharab,  who  had  been  sent  up  into  Asia 
from  Cairo  charged  to  spread  the  esoteric  doctrines 

273 


2/4  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

of  the  Ismailites.  He  was  a  graduate  of  the  so-called 
Darul-Hikmat,  or  House  of  Wisdom,  at  Kahira,  a  uni 
versity  founded  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  eleventh 
century,  and  sustained  by  the  Kaliph,  at  an  expense 
of  what  would  be  in  our  money  over  a  million  of 
dollars.  It  was  furnished  with  books  and  mathe 
matical  instruments,  and  the  students,  who  were  not 
required  to  pay  any  fee,  but  were  admitted  free, 

\  heard  the  learned  professor  discuss  abstruse  ques 
tions,  and  were  registered  in  nine  grades.  They 
wore  kaftans,  or  robes,  which  in  form  and  color  were 
like  those  now  worn  in  the  English  universities,  were 
in  fact  the  legitimate  ancestors  of  the  modern  gradu 
ation  robes.  The  doctrines  of  the  Ismailites  were 
here  promulgated  under  the  guidance  of  the  Dai-'l 
Dut,  or  Grand  Master.  The  missionaries  of  this  sect 
spread  into  many  parts  of  Asia,  and  caused  much 
trouble  to  the  Abbas  family,  who  claimed  sole  right 
to  the  succession  of  Muhammad  as  Imam  al  Musli- 
min,  or  Head  of  the  Faithful.  Those  who  found 
dynasties  need  to  take  heed  that  the  stream  of  power 
does  not  and  cannot  flow  in  more  than  one  channel. 

^  It  has  been  said  that  all  schisms  arise  from  ambition, 
and  all  heresies  are  the  fruit  of  overweening  aspira 
tion.  The  great  question  whether  seven  or  twelve  is 
the  most  sacred  number  has  led  to  rivers  of  blood 
flowing,  and  the  successive  apparitions  of  ambitious 
men  claiming  to  be  the  twelfth  and  last  descendant 


THE   MAKING    OF  A    PROPHET.  2?$ 

of  Muhammad,  Ben  Hasan  Askeri,  who,  having  slept 
for  a  certain  or  uncertain  number  of  ages  in  an  Afri 
can  cave,  should  awake  and  come  forth  as  El  Mahdi, 
the  Leader,  and  announce  the  end  of  the  world, 
prove  how  deep-rooted  the  superstition  has  been  and 
still  is. 

If  the  Mahdi  was  claimed  by  many  as  the  Twelfth 
and  last  Prophet,  Ismail,  son  of  Jafir  Sadik,  or  the 
Upright,  was  the  Seventh  and  last  Imam,  and  the 
adherents  of  his  family  for  several  hundred  years 
were  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  to  the  Abbas  family,  who, 
in  ion,  in  the  reign  of  the  Kaliph  Kadirbellan, 
brought  it  about  that  a  great  assembly  of  legal 
lights  met  secretly,  at  Bagdad,  and  investigated  the 
claims  of  the  Fatemites,  or  descendants  of  Muham 
mad's  daughter,  and  pronounced  them  unfounded. 
On  the  side  of  the  Seven  was  the  fact  that  there 
were  seven  heavens,  seven  seas,  seven  planets,  seven 
colors,  seven  tones,  seven  days  of  the  week ;  hence, 
beginning  with  Ali,  there  were  seven  Imams,  ending 
with  Ismail. 

The  Twelve  had  no  such  array,  —  only  the  twelve 
signs  of  the  zodiac,  the  twelve  months,  the  twelve 
tribes  of  Israel,  and,  by  some  jugglery,  twelve  joints 
in  the  hand.  So  when  the  claims  of  the  Seven  were 
set  aside,  dissatisfaction  still  prevailed. 

Now  Hasan  ben  Sabah  had  been  brought  up  to 
believe  in  the  lore  of  the  Twelve  Imams ;  and,  nat- 


276  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

urally,  when  the  clever  Refik  tried  to  bring  him 
round  to  the  other  view,  many  wordy  battles  ensued. 
But  while  it  pleased  his  combative  nature  to  take 
the  off  side,  it  pleased  Allah  to  render  the  soil  of  his 
mind  receptive,  and  the  seed  took  root.  In  other 
words,  he  found  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Ismallites  the 
intoxicating  fruit  of  which  he  was  in  search,  in  his 
as  yet  somewhat  undetermined  plans  for  achieving 
power. 

While  pretending  to  defend  his  hereditary  views, 
he  was  learning  from  Amir  Dharab  many  interesting 
and  curious  secrets.  It  was  evident  to  him  that,  if 
he  could  combine  something  of  the  mysterious  cere 
monial  that  obtained  in  the  Lodge  into  which  he 
had  once  been  initiated  with  a  modification  of  Is- 
mallite  sophistries,  he  might  pose  as  a  new  prophet 
of  a  new  sect,  and  win  a  tremendous  following. 

This  practical  development  of  his  dreams  and 
aspirations  was  worked  out  by  him  with  the  utmost 
care  and  deliberation.  He  took  no  one  into  his 
counsels.  After  the  Refik  went  on  his  way,  never 
suspecting  what  a  revolution  his  words  had  worked, 
Hasan  still  stayed  on  in  Mikhail  Al  Ijli's  house.  He 
would  run  no  risk  of  having  his  plans  interrupted  by 
a  premature  arrival  at  Isfahan,  where  he  knew  it  was 
more  than  possible  that  Malikshah's  emissaries  were 
on  the  lookout  for  him.  And  when  at  last  he  deter 
mined  to  set  forth,  he  left  his  son  Ostad  in  the 


THE   MAKING   OF  A    PROPHET. 

friendly  care  of  the  old  sheikh's  son,  whom  he  had 
won  to  a  most  unquestioning  admiration,  so  that  he 
was  certain  that  if  he  should  say  "  Come  with  me  " 
he  would  have  left  all  and  followed  him. 

Hasan  managed  to  reach  the  beautiful  city  of  Isfa 
han  just  before  sunset,  and,  disguised  as  usual,  rode 
through  the  well-guarded  gate  without  detection. 

With  the  greatest  caution"  he  made  his  way  to  the 
mansion  of  his  old  friend,  Abulfasl,  who  was  amazed 
and  delighted  to  see  him  once  more. 

"  How  did  you  manage  to  avoid  arrest  ? "  asked 
Abulfasl.  "  And  yet  I  need  not  ask.  I  myself 
should  not  at  first  have  known  you  in  your  disguise. 
There  were  great  rewards  offered  for  your  appre 
hension,  and  a  price  was  set  on  your  head.  But  you 
are  perfectly  safe  with  me.  I  will  conceal  you  as 
long  as  you  like." 

Abulfasl  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  had  re 
ceived  Hasan's  ill-gotten  wealth  and  placed  it  in 
safety,  and  now,  at  Hasan's  desire,  he  disposed 
of  it  at  the  bazars,  and  converted  it  into  ready 
money.  Abulfasl,  however,  on  hearing  Hasan  boast 
pf  what  great  things  he  was  going  to  do,  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  his  friend's  mind  was  affected. 

"  Give  me  two  good  friends  like  yourself,"  said 
Hasan,  "  and  I  will  soon  get  the  better  of  that  boor 
of  a  Turk  who  happens  by  good  fortune,  and  by  no 
wits  of  his  own,  to  be  on  the  throne." 


2/8  OMAR   THE    TEftTMAKER. 

Abulfasl  looked  at  him  in  amazement,  and,  alarmed 
by  the  wild,  strange  look  in  his  eyes,  prepared  for 
him  some  aromatic  drinks  which  he  thought  might 
soothe  his  perturbed  spirits. 

Hasan  was  not  content  to  remain  long  inactive. 
His  teeming  brain  constantly  impelled  him  to  go 
forth  and  begin  the  great  work  which  he  now  felt 
certain  was  to  occupy  the  rest  of  his  life.  And  yet 
even  now  he  compelled  himself  to  restraint.  He 
would  not  precipitate  matters  by  inconsiderate  haste. 
He  confirmed  himself  in  his  theories  by  discussing 
them  with  the  wise  Abulfasl.  One  day  he  fell  ill, 
and  a  physician  was  called  to  see  him.  His  name 
was  Abu  Nadshm  Saradsh,  and  Hasan  quickly  dis 
covered  that  he  was  also  an  Ismailite,  and  even  more 
deeply  grounded  in  the  doctrines.  Abu  Nadshm 
became  greatly  interested  in  Hasan,  and,  finding  that 
he  was  ready  to  acknowledge  fellowship  with  him, 
took  him,  as  soon  as  he  had  fully  recovered,  to  a 
Dar,  or  missionary,  named  Mumin.  Mumin  at  first 
hesitated  to  accept  his  allegiance,  because  he  dis 
trusted  him,  knowing  that  he  had  served  as  treasurer 
to  Malflcshah,  and  enjoyed  greater  dignities  than  he. 
But  just  at  this  time  Abdul  Melek  ben  Attash,  the 
head  of  the  Fatemite  mission  of  Irak,  happened  to 
come  to  Isfahan.  Hasan's  pretended  zeal  greatly 
pleased  him,  and  he  immediately  made  him  also  a 
Dal,  but  told  him  he  must  go  to  Egypt,  and  serve 


THE  MAKING   OF  A   PROPHET.  279 

for  a  time  in  the  Court  of  the  Imam  Mostansar, 
Kaliph  of  the  Fatemites. 

Mostansar  having  been  informed  of  the  coming  of 
his  distinguished  convert,  and  possibly  expecting  all 
the  more  from  him  because  he  had  fallen  into  dis 
grace  with  Malikshah,  sent  a  deputation  headed  by 
the  Grand  Master  of  the  Dai'l  Dowwat,  the  Sharif 
Tahre  Kaswimi,  and  other  distinguished  persons  to 
meet  him  at  the  border.  He  was  escorted  to  Cairo 
with  great  pomp,  and  was  lodged  in  one  of  the  most 
commodious  residences  in  the  city.  The  Kaliph,  a 
bigot  and  fanatic,  found  in  him  a  kindred  spirit,  and 
loaded  him  with  honors.  It  was  generally  supposed 
that,  in  recognition  of  his  genius  and  zeal,  he  would 
be  appointed  First  Minister. 

There  is  a  saying  to  the  effect  that  history  repeats 
itself,  and  Hasan  found  that  this  saying  was  true  in 
his  case.  He  was  just  on  the  point,  as  had  happened 
before  when  he  was  in  Egypt,  of  attaining  this 
important  office,  when  again  an  untoward  event 
seemed  to  block  his  ambition.  The  Kaliph  Mos 
tansar  had  two  sons  by  different  wives.  The  ques 
tion  arose  which  of  them  should  be  regarded  as  his 
successor.  His  own  favorite  was  his  eldest  son 
Nezar,  and  he  finally  formally  proclaimed  him  the 
heir  apparent.  But  Bedr  Jemali,  the  chief  Amir  of 
the  army,  a  man  of  great  intelligence,  had  a  de 
cided  preference  for  a  younger  son,  Most  'AH,  a 


280  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

youth    of    stronger    and    less    pliable    nature    than 
Nezar's. 

Bedr  Jemali,  who  had  enlisted  a  powerful  party  in 
support  of  his  candidate,  went  to  Hasan,  and  urged* 
him  to  join  him.     Hut  Hasan,  who  thought  he  saw 
in  Nezar  a  possible  tool  for  his  own  purposes,  had 
already  cast  in  his  lot  with  the  Kaliph's  party. 

The  Amir  was  deeply  offended,  and,  taking  advan 
tage  of  his  almost  unlimited  powers,  managed  to 
implicate  him  in  a  technical  offence,  and  had  him 
arrested  and  confined  in  the  Castle  of  Daimiat. 

The  Kaliph  was  extremely  indignant,  and  was 
preparing  to  rescue  his  unfortunate  convert,  when 
Heaven,  or  rather  the  earth  itself,  interfered  to  liber 
ate  him.  A  slight  earthquake  shock  took  place,  and 
the  tower  in  which  he  was  confined  fell  in  ruins. 

Calmly  as  if  he  had  expected  it,  he  walked  out 
without  having  suffered  a  scratch.  He  had  been  in 
prison  before  and  had  escaped,  but  never  in  such  a 
miraculous  manner.  But  his  tribulations  were  not 
ended.  The  rumor  of  his  escape  reached  the  ears 
of  Bedr  Jemali,  who  a  second  time  seized  him,  and 
would  have  put  him  to  death  had  it  not  been  that  a 
ship  was  about  sailing  for  some  port  on  the  African 
coast.  Hasan  was  conveyed  aboard  of  this  ship, 
and  the  captain  was  ordered  not  to  let  him  disem 
bark  until  the  very  farthest  end  of  his  voyage  was 
reached. 


THE   MAKING    OF  A    PROPHET.  28 1 

The  ship  had  hardly  reached  the  Mediterranean 
before  a  mighty  tempest  arose,  and  all  on  board 
were  momentarily  expecting  to  go  to  the  bottom. 
Now  the  greatness  of  Hasan's  character  asserted 
itself.  With  his  long  hair  and  beard  wildly  wav 
ing  he  stood  on  the  deck,  and  in  his  clear  and 
inspiring  voice,  which  could  be  heard  above  the 
whistling  of  the  wind  and  the  roar  of  the  waves, 
he  declared  to  the  frightened  sailors  with  all  the 
assurance  of  a  prophet  that  no  harm  should  befall 
them. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  he  cried,  "  I  have  had  a  revela 
tion  from  heaven.  We  shall  weather  the  storm. 
Our  Lord  hath  promised  it." 

The  sailors  and  the  captain  himself,  involuntarily 
calmed  and  reassured  by  such  a  commanding  figure 
and  such  an  expression  of  authority,  recovered  their 
courage,  and,  working  with  renewed  zeal,  managed 
the  ship  with  great  skill,  and  escaped  destruction. 
The  tempest  itself  seemed  to  submit  to  Hasan ;  the 
superstitious  sailors  declared  that  he  had  commanded 
the  winds  to  subside,  and  that  they  obeyed  him. 
And  when  he,  with  glowing  eyes,  announced  to  them 
his  mission,  and  with  perfect  assurance  told  them 
that  instead  of  going  toward  the  setting  sun  he  was 
bound  to  return  to  Asia,  and  as  if  in  corroboration 
of  his  prophecy  the  wind  suddenly  shifted,  and  blew 
strong  and  free  from  the  west,  every  man  on  board 


282  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

came  to  him  and  swore  that  they  would  follow  him 
to  death. 

How  then,  as  the  vessel,  instead  of  bearing  him, 
a  weak  and  powerless  exile,  into  unknown  African 
lands,  flew,  as  if  conscious  of  her  mission,  toward 
the  Syrian  coast,  his  ambitious  heart  swelled  within 
him !  He  knew  now  that  by  his  apparent  victory 
over  the  elements,  by  his  real  victory  over  the  men 
that  manned  the  ship,  he  was  on  the  right  road. 
The  little  band  that  would  land  with  him,  convert 
ing  their  possessions  into  weapons,  would  be  the 
nucleus  of  an  army  that  might,  that  surely  would, 
within  a  few  short  months,  bear  him  to  the  glittering 
eminence  of  power  that  he  had  seen  himself  in  his 
visions  occupy. 

"  Let  Malikshah  tremble  on  his  throne,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

A    CLOUD    ON    THE    HORIZON. 

AFTER  a  day  of  dazzling  sunshine,  where  not  a 
cloud  flecks  the  tender  blue,  the  sun  sinks  into 
a  downy  bed  lying  low  on  the  horizon.  The 
weather-wise  prophesies :  "  To-morrow  we  shall 
have  a  storm." 

So  on  the  cloudless  sweep  of  Sultan  Malikshah's 
reign,  after  a  long  period  of  uninterrupted  calm,  arose 
the  threatening  cloud  that  portended  change. 

One  day  a  messenger  arrived  at  Marv,  and  de 
manded  an  immediate  interview  with  the  Sultan 
and  his  Wazir. 

He  was  admitted,  and,  bowing  low,  said  : 

"  O  Master  of  Iran  and  Defender  of  the  fortunate 
in  Religion,  may  the  evil  eye  of  disaster  be  forever 
averted  from  your  august  Majesty.  I  am  sent  to 
you  by  his  Excellence,  the  orthodox  and  pious  'AH 
Mehdi,  Governor  of  Rudbar,  whose  face  has  turned 
saffron  from  his  anxiety  in  behalf  of  the  province  over 
which  he  extends  his  wise  and  beneficent  hand." 

283 


284  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

"  What  is  the  message  ? "  asked  MaHkshah,  impa 
tient  at  the  circuitous  discourse  which,  like  a  river 
through  a  plain,  makes  a  slow  and  ambiguous  de 
scent  to  the  sea  of  satisfaction. 

"  His  Excellence,  the  pillar  of  orthodoxy,  'Ali 
Mehdi,  sends  from  the  bow  of  his  Faithfulness  your 
unworthy  servant  as  a  broken  arrow,  around  the 
neck  whereof  is  wound  the  parchment  of  his 
message." 

"  The  message !  "  reiterated  the  Sultan. 

"  A  wolf  has  broken  into  the  pasture  and  is  rav 
aging  the  sheep,"  said  the  messenger.  "And  the 
wolf  has  brought  other  wolves  with  him,  and 
the  pack  of  wolves  is  too  large  for  the  shepherd 
to  drive  out." 

"You  speak  in  parables,"  said  Malikshah.  "Who 
is  the  wolf,  and  where  are  the  shepherd  dogs  ? " 

"The  wolf,  O  glory-cheek  of  the  Faithful,  is 
that  dog  of  a  heretic,  Hasan  ben  Sabah,  who,  with 
a  pack  of  devouring  devils,  with  the  name  of  Ismail 
written  on  their  foreheads  and  denying  the  validity 
of  the  Kaliph  of  Bagdad  and  the  authority  of  the 
Master  of  Iran,  —  whom  may  Allah  keep  perpet 
ually  on  the  throne  of  his  father,  —  is  spreading  over 
the  regions  north  of  Kaswin  and  threatening  Dirhem 
and  Irak.  To  that  faithful  shepherd,  'Ali  Mehdi,  he 
sent  an  impertinent  message  and  demand  for  the 
surrender  of  the  fifty  castles.  And  when  the  light 


A    CLOUD    ON   THE   HORIZON.  285 

of  the  Faith  —  that  brave  and  noble  warrior  and 
shepherd,  'AH  Mehdi  —  flung  back  his  message  into 
his  jaws,  Hasan,  by  treachery  and  overpowering 
numbers,  seized  the  largest  and  strongest  of  all  the 
castles  of  Rudbar,  that  invincible  burg  Alamut, 
the  Hawk's  Nest,  built  to  last  forever  by  Hasan 
ben  Seyd  Bakeri,  and  already  two  centuries  have 
dressed  its  mighty  walls  in  gray  and- 

"  Hyasan  Allah  !  "  interrupted  the  Sultan,  turning 
pale  with  anger.  "  We  will  soon  drive  out  this  wolf 
and  all  his  brood.  We  have  already  a  score  to  settle 
with  him." 

Nevertheless,  as  Malikshah  had  nothing  but  scorn 
for  Hasan  ben  Sabah,  he  resolved,  before  wasting 
force  on  him,  to  send  a  special  messenger  to  him, 
demanding  the  surrender  of  the  castle  and  evacua 
tion  of  the  province. 

"  Diplomacy  costs  less  than  bloodshed,"  he  said, 
"  and  who  is  Hasan  that  he  should  defy  me  when 
I  demand?" 

Nizamu'1-Mulk  was  inclined  to  take  the  threatened 
storm  more  seriously  than  the  Sultan  did,  and  would 
have  resorted  to  drastic  measures  at  the  very  first, 
but  he  did  not  press  the  matter.  He  suggested, 
however,  that  an  army  under  command  of  the 
Amir  Arslantash  should  be  in  readiness  to  make 
an  immediate  attack  on  the  Castle  of  Alamut,  in 
case  Hasan  ben  Sabah  should  still  remain  recalci- 


286  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

trant.  The  Sultan,  with  excellent  judgment,  deter 
mined  on  Omar  Khayyam  as  his  ambassador. 

"  Hasan  ben  Sabah,"  he  said,  "  will  behave  respect 
fully  to  Omar,  and  will  listen  to  him  with  greater 
consideration  than  to  a  stranger." 

Accordingly,  Omar  was  summoned  a  second  time 
from  Nishapur,  whither  he  had  retired  after  the 
completion  of  his  labors  on  the  new  calendar.  He 
was  not  averse  to  undertaking  this  important  mis 
sion,  but  when,  in  a  friendly  and  confidential  conver 
sation  with  the  Wazlr,  he  talked  the  matter  over,  he 
had  no  hesitation  in  expressing  his  opinion  that  any 
such  velvet  treatment  of  Hasan  would  prove  perfectly 
idle  and  abortive. 

"We  know  the  man,"  he  said;  "he  is  not  sugar 
to  melt  in  water ;  but  I  will  do  my  best  to  persuade 
him." 

No  time  was  wasted.  In  two  days  Omar,  provided 
with  a  suitable  escort  of  Kazak!  fully  armed  and 
equipped,  set  forth  for  the  Province  of  Rudbar,  or 
the  Land  of  Rivers.  The  Amir  followed  more 
leisurely  with  a  regular  army  of  about  ten  thou 
sand  men,  which  it  was  supposed  would  be  suffi 
cient  to  drive  out  the  intruder.  Arslantash  was 
ordered  to  keep  concealed  so  that  Hasan  might 
not  suspect  his  presence  or,  at  least,  might  have 
no  idea  of  his  strength. 

'Ali  Mehdi's  messenger  had  not  exaggerated  the 


A    CLOUD    ON   THE   HORIZON.  28? 

impregnability  of  the  castle  seized  by  Hasan.  Built 
of  great  blocks  of  gray  granite  carefully  hewn  and 
fitted,  as  if  it  were  the  work  of  the  Jmnat,  or  demons, 
it  frowned  down  from  the  summit  of  a  towering  crag, 
which  was  accessible  only  by  a  narrow,  winding  way, 
easily  defensible  by  a  handful  of  determined  men. 
Elsewhere  there  was  no  approach.  No  scaling-ladders 
could  ever  reach  from  the  foot  of  the  gorge  half  way 
to  the  first  small  grated  windows.  Even  should  an 
invading  host  successively  cut  down  the  defenders  at 
each  turn  of  the  stairs  and  penetrate  through  the 
tunnelled  passages,  it  would  have  at  the  very  top 
found  a  drawbridge  spanning  an  almost  fathomless 
gulf  between  the  two  spurs  of  the  mountain,  —  a 
bridge  as  dizzy  and  aerial  as  that  of  Al  A'raf,  which 
is  fabled  to  divide  heaven  from  hell. 

When  Omar  with  his  mounted  escort  stood  at  the 
foot  of  the  castle,  and  his  herald  blew  a  challenging 
blast,  a  sentinel  dressed  in  white,  except  his  hat,  his 
girdle,  and  his  boots,  which  were  red  as  if  dyed  in 
blood,  threw  open  a  small  wicket  gate  and  shouted 
down  : 

"  Kim  galan  —  who  is  there  ?  " 

"  An  envoy  to  Hasan  ben  Sabah.     Is  he  within  ? " 

"  He  is  within.  From  whom  comes  the  envoy  and 
concerning  what  ? " 

At  Omar's  bidding  the  herald  told  the  sentinel 
that  he,  Omar  Khayyam,  had  come  to  bring  a  per- 


288  OAfAK    THE    TENTMAKEK 

sonal  message  to  Hasan  ben  Sabah.  Would  he  be 
received  ? 

There  was  evidently  some  method  of  internal  com 
munication.  Had  the  sentinel  been  obliged  himself 
to  go  up  to  the  castle,  it  would  have  taken  a  good 
half  hour.  Hut  within  a  few  moments  the  sentinel 
again  thrust  his  head  out  of  the  wicket  and  bade 
Omar  and  his  escort  enter  at  a  gate  a  little  farther 
to  the  left.  It  was  so  cleverly  constructed  that  it 
seemed  to  be  a  part  of  the  very  foundation,  and  yet 
from  the  inside  it  was  seen  to  be  as  solid  as  heavy 
oak  and  wrought  iron  combined  could  be. 

Once  within,  Omar  was  amazed  at  the  sight.  The 
wall  of  the  castle  enclosed  a  vast  space,  a  hidden 
valley,  where  a  large  population  were  busily  engaged 
in  providing  for  the  sustenance  of  Hasan's  followers. 
On  the  sunny  slopes  of  the  mountain-side  there 
were  vineyards  and  gardens,  and  an  abundance  of 
the  purest  water  came  flowing  through  a  multitude 
of  conduits,  so  that  there  was  never  any  possibility 
of  a  garrison,  even  though  it  were  driven  to  the  last 
resort  in  the  isolated  tower,  perishing  from  thirst. 

Omar's  men  were  commanded  to  remain  below, 
while  he  himself  and  one  other,  under  a  guard  of 
Hasan's  Fedaviye,  or  Dedicated  Youths,  all,  like  the 
sentinel,  dressed  in  white  with  the  significant  relief 
of  red,  were  conducted  through  great  iron-barred 
doors  and  gloomy  arched  passageways  through 


A    CLOUD    ON   THE   HORIZON.  289 

turns  and  over  many  stairs,  until  at  last  they  were 
introduced  into  an  enormous  room,  the  massive  ceil 
ing  of  which,  consisting  of  great  carven  blocks  of 
marble,  rested  en  seven  solid  monolithic  columns, 
the  capitals  of  which  were  carved  each  in  a  different 
pattern,  though  not  elaborately.  In  this  anteroom 
there  were  scattered  about  a  multitude  of  men  singly 
or  in  groups.  It  was  evident  at  a  glance  that  they 
belonged  to  different  orders  of  some  great  society, 
and  Omar's  chief  guide,  proud  of  the  impression 
which  this  strange  scene  produced,  explained  that 
a  certain  stately,  patriarchal-looking  officer  with  a 
flowing  robe  of  white  was  a  Dai'-al  Kirbal,  or  Grand 
Prior,  and  the  group  of  younger  men  who  bowed 
ceremoniously  as  he  passed  them  were  Refikat,  or 
Associates. 

Omar  was  kept  waiting  a  few  moments ;  then  a 
gorgeously  embroidered  curtain  or  portiere  at  one 
side  of  the  assembly  hall  was  drawn  aside  and  dis 
closed  a  still  more  imposing  apartment.  At  one  end 
of  it  was  a  raised  da'fs,  on  which  stood  a  magnificent 
throne.  In  it  was  seated  in  truly  regal  splendor  of 
apparel  the  Sidna,  or  Supreme  Regent,  of  the  new 
order,  —  Hasan  ben  Sabah.  Beside  him  stood  the 
Grand  Priors,  and  ranged  around  him  in  a  semi 
circle,  the  symbolic  colors  of  their  raiment  blend 
ing  in  a  sort  of  barbaric  magnificence  that  was 
calculated  to  impress  the  eye  of  even  the  coolest 


290  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

beholder.  The  prominence  of  white  as  typical  of 
innocence  and  of  red  as  typical  of  blood  was  due 
to  the  immense  numbers  of  Fedaviye,  who,  having 
been  initiated,  were  ready  for  any  kind  of  service, 
and  now  flocked  about  their  leader  eager  to  hear  the 
Sultan's  message. 

If  Omar  had  deemed  it  possible  that  he  might 
have  private  speech  with  his  old  schoolmate,  he  now 
saw  that  it  was  most  unlikely.  A  vast  gulf  of  cere 
mony  separated  them,  and  whatever  stream  of  bitter 
reminiscence  regarding  Hasan's  treatment  of  poor 
Agap£  may  have  poured  through  the  hidden  caves 
of  Omar's  mind,  he  would  not  have  deemed  it  pru 
dent  or  politic  to  bring  it  to  the  light  before  such 
an  assemblage  of  Hasan's  devoted  followers. 

Profound  silence  reigned  as  Omar  stood  with 
simple  dignity  before  the  waiting  assemblage.  He 
remembered  Hasan's  boast,  and  confessed  to  him 
self  that  the  regal  state  with  which  he  was  sur 
rounded,  and  of  which  Hasan  was  the  central  figure, 
seemed  like  a  swift  fulfilment  of  his  prophecy. 

Then  suddenly  broke  on  his  ear  the  deep  bell- 
tones  of  Hasan's  wonderful  voice. 

There  is  no  instrument  which  has  a  greater  maj 
esty  of  power  than  a  human  voice  when  properly 
used  in  speech  or  song.  The  stringed  instruments 
may  give  out  a  melody  to  enchant  the  heart,  and 
yet  your  ultimate  praise  is  modified  by  the  "  almost 


A    CLOUD    ON   THE   HORIZON.  2QI 

human  "  which  you  add.  The  organ  fills  the  mind 
with  solemn  and  religious  thoughts,  and  in  its  place 
in  a  cathedral,  where  the  light  falls  through  pictured 
windows  and  the  very  atmosphere  seems  sacred,  its 
vast  and  noble  harmonies  seem  almost  heavenly. 
But  a  man  of  genius,  gifted  with  a  sympathetic  and 
flexible  voice,  can  sway  a  throng  of  his  fellows  by 
its  means,  as  the  wind  sways  the  ocean,  stirring 
them  to  every  possibility  of  passion,  from  the  lowest 
depths  of  fanatic  anger  to  the  loftiest  heights  of 
generous  enthusiasm.  Such  a  voice  had  Hasan. 
It  rang  through  the  throne-room  of  his  castle,  — 
clear,  vibrating,  deep,  and  sonorous,  clear  and  dis 
tinct  to  every  person  present.  Hasan  ben  Sabah 
indulged  now  in  none  of  the  filigree  decorations 
dear  to  Oriental  orators.  His  address  was  abso 
lutely  simple  and  direct : 

"  What  is  your  message,  Omar  ? " 

"  Hasan  ben  Sabah,  my  master  and  yours,  the 
Din-parwar,  the  Defender  of  the  Faith,  Malikshah, 
Sultan  of  the  Turkish  and  Persian  Empire  and 
ruler  of  this  province,  demands  your  instant  evacu 
ation  of  this  Castle  of  Alamut,  the  dispersal  of  your 
lawless  followers,  and  your  absolute  submission  to 
his  authority." 

Hasan's  lip  curled  with  scorn.  Yet  he  spoke 
calmly  and  assuredly  : 

"  Your  master,  but  not  mine.    I  refuse  to  acknowl- 


2Q2  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

edge  allegiance  to  that  Turkish  usurper.  As  for  me, 
I  call  these  my  faithful  ministers  and  followers  to 
witness  that  I  act  not  on  my  own  behoof,  but  under 
the  direct  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  Allah,  whose 
name  I  am  allowed  to  bear." 

A  mighty  roar  of  assent  burst  from  the  mouths 
of  all  present. 

Omar  waited  till  silence  was  restored.  Then, 
stepping  one  step  nearer  to  the  throne,  he  said  : 

"  Hasan  ben  Sabah,  if  you  refuse  to  yield  to  the 
Sultan's  reasonable  demand,  I  am  commanded  to 
warn  you  that  he  will  immediately  take  measures 
to  expel  you  from  the  fortress  and  from  the  prov 
ince.  I  have  delivered  my  message." 

Hasan  made  no  direct  reply.  But  taking  a 
jewelled  dagger  from  his  belt,  he  called  out  a  num 
ber,  evidently  at  haphazard,  and  beckoned  to  one 
of  the  Fedaviye,  who  were  ranged  in  a  semicircle 
around  the  throne.  The  youth,  a  swarthy,  fero 
cious-looking  Arab,  instantly  stepped  forward,  and, 
accepting  the  dagger  from  Hasan's  hand,  made  him 
a  deep  obeisance,  and,  repeating  the  solemn  formula 
of  his  order,  in  accordance  with  which  he  swore  to 
obey  the  Sidna  for  life  and  for  death,  plunged  the 
weapon  into  his  heart,  and  fell  back  dead  without 
a  groan.  Four  of  the  novices,  throwing  a  scarlet 
cloak  over  his  dead  body,  bore  it  out  without  saying 
a  word. 


A    CLOUD    ON   THE   HORIZON.  293 

Then  Hasan,  again  calling  out  a  number  which 
was   instantly  answered  by  the   Initiated  Youth  to7 
whom  it  corresponded,  pointed  to  the  open  window 
overlooking   the    sheer  precipice   hundreds    of  feet 
below,  and  cried  : 

"  Paradise  and  all  its  glories  for  those  who  un- 
questioningly  obey.  The  mystic  leap  !  " 

Omar  would  have  seized  the  fellow  by  his  red 
girdle  and  forcibly  detained  him,  but  the  youth  was 
resolute  in  facing  his  fate. 

"  I  obey ! "  were  the  words  spoken  by  lips  that 
blenched  not,  and,  the  victim  of  this  barbarous 
tyranny,  walking  resolutely  to  the  window,  without 
even  looking  around,  sprang  out  into  the  air.  A 
moment  of  breathless  silence  ensued.  Then  the 
sound  of  a  dull,  sickening  thud  was  heard  far,  far 
below.  The  double  tragedy  was  over. 

Hasan  with  an  awful  dignity  and  majesty  rose, 
and,  casting  a  look  of  triumph  over  the  throng  of  his 
faithful  followers  and  at  his  old  schoolmate,  said  in 
the  deepest  tones  of  his  marvellous  voice  : 

"  Omar,  return  and  report  to  your  Turkish  mas 
ter,  the  Sultan  Malikshah,  what  you  have  seen. 
Every  one  of  these  whom  you  behold,  and  thousands 
more,  are  sworn  by  the  solemnest  of  oaths  to  obey 
me  to  the  death.  Tell  him  —  since  I  have  left  the 
mill,  what  have  I  to  do  with  the  millstone?  —  I  defy 
his  threats.  I  will  not  yield  allegiance  to  him.  Nor 


294  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

has  he  power  enough  to  drive  me  from  this  province 
or  from  this  castle.  Tell  him  this  !  " 

Omar  was  wise ;  he  knew  that  further  parley  was 
useless.  Accordingly  he  prepared  to  withdraw.  He 
said  : 

"  I  have  delivered  my  message.  I  will  faithfully 
report  to  the  Sultan  what  you  have  said.  I  regret 
that  you  impose  on  me  such  a  duty.  But  I  have 
warned  you.  On  your  head  be  the  consequences. 
I  will  now  return." 

Hasan  made  no  attempt  to  detain  him.  Escorted 
by  the  same  body  of  soldiers,  he  passed  through  the 
anteroom,  down  through  the  winding  passages  and 
subterranean  stairs,  the  gloomy  arches  reverberating 
to  the  tramp  of  their  feet  and  the  clank  of  their 
weapons  ;  and  after  an  interminable  time  he  rejoined 
the  rest  of  his  men,  who  were  patiently  awaiting  his 
return.  They  had  waited  the  more  patiently  because 
during  his  absence  a  most  hearty  and  appetizing 
refection  had  been  prepared  for  them,  and  they  had 
employed  the  time  to  advantage.  But  to  Omar,  by 
some  neglect,  either  accidental  or  intentional,  noth 
ing  in  the  way  of  refreshments  had  been  offered. 
This  was  so  contrary  to  all  Eastern  usages,  that  no 
one  could  fail  to  remark  on  it.  Was  it  meant  as  an 
insult  to  him,  or  to  the  Sultan  whose  ambassador  he 
was  ?  This  question  he  debated  with  himself  as  he 
rode  out  of  the  great  gate  of  the  castle. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

THE    ASSASSINS. 

HASAN  allowed  Omar  and  his  suite  to  ride  some 
distance  away.  Then  he  despatched  a  messenger  on 
a  swift  horse  to  overtake  them. 

"Our  Sidna,"  he  cried,  "begs  Omar  ben  Ibrahim 
to  turn  back  for  a  little  space.  He  desires  private 
talk  with  him." 

Omar  was  at  first  inclined  to  refuse  the  invitation  ; 
his  better  judgment  advised  it,  but  thinking  that  pos 
sibly  Hasan  might  have  changed  his  mind  regarding 
his  message  to  the  Sultan,  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  comply. 

This  time,  as  he  reentered  the  castle,  he  was  met 
by  two  of  the  Chief  Priors,  who  received  him  with  a 
particular  assiduity  which  contrasted  strangely  with 
the  cold  formality  of  his  previous  visit.  He  was 
offered  the  privilege  of  a  bath,  and  then  he  was 
conducted  to  a  dining-room,  where  he  was  met  by 
Hasan,  and  seated  at  his  right  hand.  The  repast 
was  ample,  and  elegantly  served,  a  dozen  of  the 

295 


296  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

"Aspirants"  acting  as  waiters,  and  bringing  in  the 
various  courses  as  they  came  along.  It  seemed  as  if 
Hasan  were  trying  by  the  magnificence  of  this  din 
ner  to  atone  for  his  former  inhospitality.  The 
presence  of  the  two  Grand  Priors,  and  of  Ostad  ben 
Hasan,  whom  Omar  would  hardly  have  recognized, 
clad  as  he  was  in  the  white  garb  of  the  mystic  order, 
served  as  an  effectual  barrier  to  any  intimate  con 
versation,  even  if  Omar  had  felt  like  unbending  from 
his  dignity  to  enter  into  unrestrained  dialogue  with 
the  man  whom  he  regarded  as  primarily  responsible 
for  the  death  of  Agape*. 

But  when  the  dinner  was  finished,  and  the  attend 
ants  had  brought  perfumed  water  in  brazen  ewers 
to  pour  over  their  hands  for  the  customary  ablutions, 
Hasan  dismissed  the  other  guests,  and  begging  Omar 
to  come  with  him,  led  him  to  a  room  which  might 
perhaps  be  called  a  library.  It  was  of  noble  propor 
tions,  with  arched  ceiling,  the  panels  of  which  were 
filled  with  symbolical  designs  carved  in  marble.  It 
was  one  of  the  apartments  adopted  by  Hasan  for  his 
own  private  use,  and  furnished  with  an  elegance  and 
luxury  which  would  have  been  remarkable  even  in 
our  day. 

When  the  two  men  were  seated  on  the  wide  divan 
that  ran  on  the  side  of  the  room  next  the  outer  wall, 
so  that  they  could  look  out  of  wide  windows  into  a 
garden  furnished  with  every  manner  of  fruit-tree, 


THE  ASSASSINS.  2Q/ 

and  with  graceful  fountains  tossing  their  scintillating 
jewels  high  into  the  air,  Hasan  began  : 

"  Omar,  you  are  a  poet,  and  no  one  delights  in  your 
verses  more  than  I  do.  Poets  are  prophets,  and  are 
able  to  read  the  book  of  Fate  with  clearer  insight  than 
ordinary  mortals.  When,  therefore,  I  told  you  at 
Nishapur  that  I  should  rise  high,  that  my  sun  would 
eclipse  the  moon  of  Mah'kshah,  you  knew  in  your 
inmost  heart  that  I  was  not  idly  boasting,  and  you 
were  not  surprised  when  you  heard  how  I  had 
returned,  with  ever  growing  power,  till  the  Sultan 
began  to  tremble  on  the  toppling  throne  of  his 
usurpation,  and  sent  his  idle  threat  by  the  very 
man  who  best  knew  how  idle  it  was." 

Hasan's  eyes  were  kindling ;  his  powerful  features 
were  lighted  up  by  a  strange  glow.  No  one  could 
doubt  that  he  believed  in  his  own  preeminence. 
Omar  listened  with  keen  interest.  He  saw  that 
he  was  dealing  with  a  man  who  was  destined  to  do 
terrible  things  ;  but  he  said  nothing.  Hasan  went 
on  : 

"  Omar,  friend  of  my  youth,  I  told  you  at  Nishapur 
that  if  you  would  cast  in  your  lot  with  mine  we  would 
drive  the  Turk  from  our  ancient  kingdom  of  Iran. 
It  is  not  too  late  now.  I  shall  accomplish  my 
destiny.  When  I  went  to  Isfahan  I  told  my  faith 
ful  old  friend,  Abulfasl,  that  if  I  had  two  friends  like 
himself  I  would  soon  drive  that  Turkish  boor  from 


298  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Iran.  Abulfasl  is  not  a  poet ;  he  thought  I  was 
crazy,  and  prepared  aromatic  drinks  and  saffron 
meats  to  drive  out  the  evil  spirits.  When  I  saw 
him  last  I  had  already  won  this  castle,  and  I  proved 
to  him,  as  I  shall  prove  to  you,  that  I  have  power 
enough  to  make  good  my  promise.  I  asked  him 
then,  '  Which  of  us  was  crazy,  you  or  I  ?  And  for 
whom  should  the  aromatic  drinks  and  saffron  meats 
have  been  prepared  ?  You  see  I  am  keeping  my 
word.'  Perhaps  you  think  as  others  have  thought, 
that  I  would  simply  destroy  and  not  build  up. 
Atheism,  or  what  the  rabble  call  atheism,  may  be 
fitted  for  the  unsettling,  for  the  destruction  of  states, 
but  not  for  the  foundation  of  dynasties.  Lawless 
ness  may  be  well  enough  for  you  and  me,  for  us  the 
rulers,  but  morals  and  religion  are  the  safeguards  of 
the  people.  We  must,  at  least,  make  the  people 
believe  that  we  are  pious.  I,  even  I,  have  per 
formed  the  tapassa.  I  have  gone  for  a  week  with 
out  food,  steadfastly  pronouncing  the  name  of  God, 
—  for  Muhammad  declares  that  fasting  brings  us  to 
the  door  of  the  heavenly  palace ;  and  I  have  ever 
found  it  so." 

Omar  knew  that  this  -was  the  veriest  hypocrisy. 
Indignation  swelled  his  heart.  He  could  no  longer 
contain  himself. 

"  What  did  you  do  with  that  poor  Greek  maiden, 
the  Princess  Agap£  ? "  he  declared,  suddenly. 


THE    ASSASSINS.  299 

"  Oh,  I  remember ;  you  were  wont  to  meet  her 
clandestinely,  and  break  the  law  of  the  Prophet  in 
her  company.  I  had  regard  to  her  eternal  welfare 
and  rescued  her  from  such  contamination.  Had  she 
been  willing  to  listen  to  me,  I  would  have  made  her 
more  famous  than  the  Queen  of  Saba,  who  won  the 
love  of  the  Sultan  Suleyman.  But  she  refused  to 
listen  to  my  words  of  wisdom,  and  I  know  not  what 
became  of  her." 

"  She  returned  to  her  father  and  to  me,"  said 
Omar.  "  She  died  in  my  arms.  More  unfortunate 
was  she  than  Basus,  the  most  beautiful  woman  of 
Israel.  But,  though  she  owed  all  her  misfortunes  to 
you,  she  refused  to  curse  you." 

"  It  was  certainly  very  generous  of  her,"  said 
Hasan,  with  a  sneer.  "  Why  should  she  have 
cursed  me  when  I  would  have  done  so  much  for 
her  ?  But  she  is  dead,  and  henceforth  I  say  '  Sow 
not  in  unfruitful  soil.'  We  will  speak  no  more  of 
her.  I  have  now  other  more  important  things  to 
talk  about." 

Omar  had  a  sharp  and  indignant  reply  on  his 
tongue,  but  Hasan  rose  and  said  : 

"  Now  I  am  going  to  show  you  how  I  win  converts. 
Come  with  me." 

He  led  the  way  through  several  apparently  empty 
apartments,  all  furnished  and  decorated  with  sumptu 
ous  magnificence,  as  if  Asia  and  India,  and  even 


300  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Europe,  had  been  robbed  of  their  treasures  to  enrich 
this  barbarous  abode  of  fanatic  indulgence.  Carved 
ebony  chairs,  adorned  with  elephants'  tusks,  cunningly 
wrought  into  weird  and  grotesque  designs ;  divans, 
inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl,  and  disposed  with  swans- 
down  cushions  in  gorgeously  embroidered  covers ;  great 
crystals  of  the  purest  water,  like  drops  of  liquid  air 
fixed  and  glowing  with  light,  patiently  fashioned  by 
the  artist-artisans  of  China ;  bronze  figures,  brought 
overland  from  Japan  ;  a  marvellous  array  of  pre 
cious  rugs  spread  on  the  mosaic  floors,  and  the  cold 
solidity  of  the  walls  protected  from  dampness  by 
hangings  of  exquisite  designs.  . 

Arriving  at  a  room  comparatively  dark,  Hasan 
touched  a  gong-bell,  and  instantly  unseen  hands 
pulled  apart  heavy  silken  curtains.  A  strange 
scene  was  presented  to  Omar's  wondering  eyes. 
A  handsome  youth  whom  he  had  noticed  among 
his  escort  stood  blindfolded  between  two  maidens 
of  exquisite  loveliness  clad  in  gauzy  raiment,  which 
only  the  more  enticingly  revealed  the  symmetrical 
contours  of  their  Huri-like  forms.  Ranged  at  a 
little  distance  were  concentric  semicircles  of  beau 
tiful  maidens,  standing  motionless  and,  as  it  were, 
breathless,  as  if  painted,  or  rather  sculptured  from 
living  marble.  The  two  guides  conducted  the  youth 
to  a  cushioned  seat  beneath  an  oleander-tree  in 
fullest  bloom,  every  branch  laden  with  a  multitude 


THE   ASSASSINS.  30 1 

of  white  blossoms,  breathing  intoxicating  perfumes, 
and  when  they  had  seated  him  there,  they  deftly 
unbound  the  bandage  from  his  eyes.  As  they  did 
so,  the  semicircles  of  maidens,  drawing  closer,  began 
to  sway  to  and  fro  in  a  most  enchanting  dance, 
while  an  invisible  chorus  broke  forth  in  a  song  so 
soft  and  seductive  that  it  would  have  charmed  an 
anchorite. 

CHORUS  OF  HASAN'S  HURIS. 

After  the  toils  of  terrestrial  life, 
After  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  strife, 
After  thy  trials  and  sorrows  are  done — 
Welcome  to  Paradise,  Fortunate  One  ! 

Here  blooms  the  Tuba-tree,  full  of  delight, 
Here  rise  the  fountains  eternally  bright, 
Here  fragrant  rivers  of  wine  ever  run  — 
Welcome  to  Paradise,  Fortunate  One  ! 

Maidens  celestial  shall  fan  thy  desires,  */ 

We  are  all  thine,  as  we  sing  to  our  lyres, 
Bliss  never-ceasing  for  thee  hath  begun  — 
Welcome  to  Paradise,  Fortunate  One  ! 

The  youth  with  eyes  widely  staring  looked  first 
at  one,  then  at  another.  One  of  the  tenuous-clad 
maidens,  flitting  off  to  a  little  table  of  teak-wood 
studded  with  jewels,  seized  a  golden  ewer,  and  pour 
ing  out  a  cup  of  flashing  wine,  bore  it  back  to  the 
youth,  and,  seating  herself  by  his  side,  threw  her 


302  OMAK    THE    TENTMAKER. 

soft,  round  arm  about  his  neck,  put  the  seductive 
liquor  to  his  lips. 

Omar  could  hear  him  ask  in  a  trembling  voice: 
"  Where  am  I  ? "  and  the  ringing  answer,  sweet 
as  the  music  of  angels,  "Thou  hast  won  the  vic 
tory  ;  this  is  the  crown ;  thou  art  in  paradise,  as  the 
Prophet  foretold." 

"He  believes  it!"  whispered  Hasan  in  Omar's 
ear.  "  It  accords  with  his  dreams ;  he  has  tasted 
the  Indian  hemp  ;  he  is  intoxicated  with  hashish. 
When  he  is  recovered  from  the  delirium  he  is  ours !  " 

Even  as  Omar  looked,  the  youth,  feeling  the  lips 

of   the   simulated  Huri   on   his,  swooned   and  was 

instantly  borne  away  by  two  stout  slaves  who  were 

in  waiting.     The  silken   curtains  were  drawn,  and 

the  radiant,  marvellous  scene  was  shut  out,  but  Omar 

heard  the  chorus  of  the  Huran  again  as  still  another 

^   of  Hasan's  postulants  entered  into  the  charmed  circle 

>  of  his  maleficent  paradise. 

"  I  brought  you  back  and  have  shown  you  this," 
said  Hasan,  with  triumphant  security,  "that  you 
might  see  how  certain  I  am  of  accomplishing  my 
designs.  Each  day  sees  hundreds  flocking  to  my 
standard.  Yesterday  a  caravan  of  five  hundred 
camels,  bringing  countless  treasures,  came  to  me 
from  the  Reis  Mozaffir,  who  has  agreed  to  turn  over 
to  me  his  castle  of  Kirdkuh,  and  to  renounce  his 
allegiance  to  the  Turkish  Sultan,  Malikshah." 


THE    ASSASSINS.  303 

Omar  knew  perfectly  well  that  Mozaffir  had  been 
one  of  Nizamu'l-Mulk's  fast  friends,  and  as  a  faithful 
servant  to  the  Sultan  had  been  entrusted  with  an 
important  province  in  the  north. 

"There  are  fifty  other  castles,"  Hasan  went  on, 
"  which  I  shall  soon  occupy  with  my  faithful.  There 
are  Dirkul  and  Tambur  and  Firushkuh  and  Kain  and 
Tun,  —  rich  and  well  fortified.  Within  six  moons, 
perhaps  in  less  time  by  your  new  and  improved 
method  of  reckoning,  —  which,  I  assure  you,  I  will 
adopt,  at  least,  if  you  will  join  us,  —  I  shall  have  the 
whole  of  Kufisan  under  my  sway.  Omar,  join  me 
and  I  will  make  your  name  to  ring  through  the 
ages ! " 

Omar  shook  his  head.  He  had  no  temptation  to 
be  unfaithful  to  his  benefactor ;  but  before  he  could 
speak  Hasan  went  on  : 

"You  shall  be  free  to  think  as  you  please.  Do 
you  imagine  that  I  believe  as  the  brainless  rabble 
do  ?  Is  my  mind  less  acute  than  yours  ?  Do  I  not 
know  that  Muhammad  was  a  crazy  poet,  that  the 
quarrels  between  the  Shiites  and  the  Fatemites  are 
based  on  the  most  senseless  of  genealogies  ?  Do 
you  suppose  I  really  make  any  distinction  between 
seven  and  twelve  ?  Is-  one  number  more  sacred 
than  another  ?  But  the  great  mass  of  people,  —  the 
Jaheri,  the  exoteric,  —  they  must,  for  their  own  good, 
be  given  fables  for  truth,  husks  for  corn !  You  and 


304  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

I  despise  them  equally.  For  us,  who  are  adepts,  who 
have  reached  the  highest  grade  of  worldly  wisdom, 
there  may  be  freedom  from  close  observance  of 
Islam  ;  but  the  blinders  of  custom  must  be  tied 
over  the  eyes  of  ignorance, 

"  Yes,  come  with  me,  Omar,  Prince  of  Poets,  join 
me  and  I  will  make  you  head  of  the  Seven  Grades  of 
Learning.  What  keener  delight  than  to  teach  my 
Dais,  my  faithful  missionaries,  how  most  successfully 
to  flatter  the  prejudices  of  mankind  and  win  power 
over  them,  as  one  trains  a  fiery  steed !  Think  of  the 
Taril,  that  allegoric  instruction  which  shows  men, 
who  have  passed  through  the  ordeal,  that  there  is 
something  deeper  and  higher  and  wider  than  the 
Quran !  All  this  shall  be  put  into  your  hands,  you 
shall  be  master  of  it !  " 

"Nay,"  said  Omar,  quoting  from  one  of  his  own 
quatrains  as  his  manner  was,  "  « The  hereafter  will 
fill  all  hours,  and  the  world  is  but  for  a  moment ; 
sell  not  the  Kingdom  of  Eternity  for  the  sake  of  a 
moment.'  It  may  be  that  you  will  drive  Malflcshah 
from  the  throne  as  you  threaten  to  do  ;  but  he  is  my 
generous  friend  and  benefactor,  and  no  temptations 
that  you  could  hold  out  would  cause  me  to  swerve 
from  my  duty  to  him.  I  must  now  return." 

Hasan's  face  grew  threatening ;  a  black  look  of 
wrath  came  into  his  eyes,  contracting  his  shaggy 
brows.  "Know  you  not,"  he  said,  in  the  deepest 


THE   ASSASSINS.  305 

bell-tones  of  his  portentous  voice,  "that  I  have  you 
in  my  power  ? "  He  touched  his  gong,  and  instantly 
from  every  door  advanced  a  score  of  his  fanatic 
followers  with  sparkling  daggers  in  their  hands. 

"If  I  speak  the  word,"  exclaimed  Hasan,  "your 
last  moment  is  come.  A  hundred  blades  will  be  in 
your  body ;  you  will  be  cut  into  a  thousand  pieces." 

Omar,  who  had  risen  to  go,  stood  there  a  moment ; 
not  a  muscle  of  his  face  quivered  ;  he  looked  straight 
into  Hasan's  eye. 

"I  fear  not  death,"  he  said;  "you  who  are  the 
murderer  of  innocent  maidens  may  well  threaten  to 
kill  the  ambassador  of  your  Sultan  !  A  worthy  deed 
to  be  remembered  by.  Do  your  worst.  I  defy 
you ! " 

Hasan  could  not  help  respecting  Omar's  courage. 
Perhaps,  if  he  had  shown  the  slightest  weakness  or 
shadow  of  quailing,  he  might  have  given  the  fatal 
word ;  it  is  certain  that  no  fear  of  consequences,  no 
respect  of  conscience  or  law,  would  have  restrained 
him  and  his  men,  who  stood  there  enclosing  Omar 
with  a  circle  of  daggers,  sworn  to  kill  or  to  die; 
indeed  many  of  them  not  many  months  later,  pene 
trating  to  the  inmost  shrines  of  royalty,  buried  those 
same  daggers  in  hearts  as  innocent  as  Omar's. 

But  it  pleased  Hasan  this  time  to  experiment 
rather  than  to  act ;  he  was  glad  to  have  a  truthful 
man  carry  the  report  and  message  to  Mah'kshah. 


306  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Accordingly  he  bade  his  band  of  assassins  retire, 
and  in  a  moment  the  gorgeous  room  was  as  empty 
as  before. 

"Return  to  your  Turkish  master.  Are  you  not 
ashamed  —  you,  a  Persian  of  purest  blood  —  to  be  a 
slave  to  a  Turk  ?  Tell  him  what  you  have  seen  ! 
Tell  him  my  dagger  will  be  buried  in  his  heart 
before  your  orange-tree  bears  its  first  golden  fruit ! 
He  has  not  deceived  me.  His  army  tried  to  hide 
from  the  Hawk  of  Alamut.  Can  ten  thousand  hide 
from  the  eye  and  scent  of  the  eagle?  I  am  ready 
for  a  siege  or  for  a  battle  in  the  open  field.  Go !  " 

Two  taps  on  the  gong  brought  a  special  guard 
of  four  men  who  should  conduct  Omar  outside  the 
castle.  As  he  was  leaving  the  room  where  Hasan 
stood  a  terrible  and  relentless  figure,  Hasan's  voice 
thundered  forth : 

"  Omar  Khayyam,  one  more  chance  is  yours.  But 
I  warn  you,  —  the  fate  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk  and  of  Ma- 
Kkshah  will  teach  you  what  you,  too,  may  expect." 
•  And  Omar,  as  he  passed  along  the  echoing  corri 
dor,  heard  his  ill-omened  voice  saying  in  Arabic, 
"Hail  to  the  Prophet  and  his  family:  Allah  the 
Best  of  Rulers  satisfies  us !  " 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 


WHEN  Omar  rejoined  his  escort,  he  found  that 
Hasan's  Dai's  had  taken  advantage  of  his  absence 
to  tamper  with  their  fidelity,  and  they  had  succeeded 
in  seducing  a  number  of  the  younger  men  as  well  as 
the  handsome  youth,  the  beginning  of  whose  initia 
tion  he  had  witnessed.  He  now  saw  that  he  ought 
not  to  have  turned  back.  Hasan  had  used  the  oppor 
tunity  the  delay  afforded  to  win  adherents  by  his 
usual  underhanded  and  wily  ways.  He  did  not  know 
how  severely  the  Sultan  might  blame  him  for  allow 
ing  such  a  defection.  He  mounted  his  horse  and, 
ordering  his  men  to  follow,  rode  with  the  greatest 
possible  despatch  toward  the  mountain  pass  where 
Arslantash,  the  Lion  Stone,  was  lying  in  wait,  ready 
to  march  against  Alamut.  As  soon  as  Omar  came 
within  sight,  the  Amir  himself,  who  had  been  in 
hourly  expectation  of  his  return,  met  him  and 
brought  him  to  his  tent  that  he  might  hear  his 
report.  Like  a  true  soldier,  Arslantash  rejoiced  at 
the  prospect  of  immediate  action.  He  saw  himself 

3°7 


308  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

forcing  his  way  through  the  great  halls  of  the  castle, 
slaying  the  fugitive  followers  of  the  false  prophet, 
and  tracking  Hasan  himself  to  his  ultimate  refuge 
while  his  men  ransacked  the  treasures  which  fangtic 
enthusiasm  had  poured  into  his  grasping  hands. 

"  What  does  this  Hawk  call  himself  ?  "  asked  the 
Amir. 

"  He  scorns  the  title  of  Sultan,  which  he  says  is 
Turkish,"  replied  Omar,  "and  as  his  r6le  is  religious 
as  well  as  political,  since  he  makes  no  claim  to  be  a 
descendant  of  the  Prophet,  he  contents  himself  with 
the  simple  title  of  Sheikh.  His  followers  call  him 
the  Sheikh  ul  Jebal,  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain, 
and  they  in  turn  take  their  name  from  him  and  are 
known  as  the  Hasanites,  though  because  their  initi 
ation  begins  with  hashish  they  are  also  known  as 
the  Hashish  Eaters,  or  Assassins.  And  they  have 
renamed  the  castle  the  House  of  Fortune." 

"  Well,  we  will  clean  out  this  nest  of  Assassins ! " 
exclaimed  Arslantash,  confidently.  "And  we  will 
turn  the  House  of  Fortune  into  an  abode  of  Mis 
fortune." 

Within  half  an  hour  the  ten  thousand  men  under 
his  command  were  on  their  way  to  the  castle,  which 
he  was  burning  with  zeal  to  capture  and  destroy. 

Omar  with  his  escort  set  out  for  his  long  ride 
across  the  mountains  to  render  his  report  to  Malflc- 
shah.  It  was  a  journey  of  several  days,  taken  with 


THE  SULTANAS  PAVILION.  309 

decent  leisureliness  as  became  an  ambassador  of  the 
Sultan.  Nizamu'1-Mulk  received  him  with  his  usual 
friendly  courtesy,  and  listened  with  eager  attention 
to  Omar's  picturesque  description  of  his  experiences 
at  Alamut. 

"No,"  said  the  Wazir,  "  I  cannot  blame  you  for 
heeding  Hasan's  invitation  to  turn  back.  It  was 
clearly  your  duty  to  do  so,  nor  were  you  to  blame 
that  some  of  your  men  were  foolish  enough  to  be 
seduced  by  his  specious  promises.  But  let  us  go  to 
Mah'kshah." 

Omar  had  almost  completed  his  account  for  the 
second  time  when  a  sudden  interruption  broke  it  off. 
A  messenger  had  arrived,  haggard  and  pale  from  a 
long  and  breathless  journey,  and  demanded  instant 
admission  to  the  Sultan,  as  his  tidings  were  of  the 
utmost  importance. 

He  came  in,  and  precirjjtated  himself  at  Malik- 
shah's  feet,  and  kissed  the  hem  of  his  robe.  When 
the  Sultan  commanded  him  to  rise  and  speak,  it 
seemed  as  if  his  tongue  clave  to  the  roof  of  his 
mouth.  But  at  last,  by  dint  of  questioning,  the 
man  was  able  to  tell  his  story. 

"  Arslantash,"  he  said,  "had  advanced  to  the  foot 
of  the  Castle  of  Alamut  with  all  his  forces,  and,  after 
demanding  its  surrender,  proceeded  to  lay  regular 
siege  to  it.  Once  Hasan  made  a  sortie  with  a  troop 
of  soldiers  dressed  like  darvishes,  in  black  leather 


3IO  OMAR    THE    TEtfTMAhl  h 

leggings  and  yellow  turbans,  and,  shouting  '  Y;i 
Allah  !  Ya  hu ! '  made  a  desperate  onslaught  which 
Arslantash  repulsed  with  great  difficulty.  Many  had 
fallen  on  both  sides.  From  a  prisoner  we  learned 
that  Hasan  had  seventy  companions,  all  well-armed 
and  sworn  never  to  surrender.  On  the  second  night 
a  great  misfortune  had  occurred.  Abu  'Ali,  .one  of 
Hasan's  most  devoted  adherents,  hearing  that  he 
was  besieged  in  his  castle,  came  with  a  force  of 
only  about  three  hundred  men,  and,  taking  advantage 
of  the  darkness,  fell  with  a  desperate  onslaught  on 
Arslantash  and  completely  defeated  him ;  Hasan's 
troops  hearing  the  tumult,  or  perhaps  getting  word, 
also  emerged  from  the  gates  and  joined  in  the  pur 
suit  of  the  Amir  and  his  fleeing  men.  Arslantash 
himself  was  killed  by  an  arrow  which  pierced  his 
eye,  and  of  all  his  troops  scarcely  ten  escaped.  A 
few  threw  down  their  arms  and  surrendered.  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  find  a  riderless  horse,  and,  as 
soon  as  daylight  dawned  and  I  could  see  where  to 
go,  succeeded  in  eluding  the  enemy,  and  here  I  am. 
O  Light  of  the  Faith,  may  your  shadow  never 
diminish ! " 

This  tidings  caused  the  greatest  excitement,  and 
even  consternation.  That  MaHkshah,  whose  victori 
ous  arm  had  ground  to  powder  the  most  formidable 
Khans  of  Bukhara  and  won  cities  from  the  Emperor 
of  Byzantium  ;  who  had  taken  as  his  standard  the 


THE  SULTANAS  PAVILION.  311 

darafshi  Kawanl,  the  sacred  leather  apron  of  the 
famous  blacksmith  Kawah,  of  Isfahan,  the  jewelled 
standard  of  Persia ;  who  was  recognized  by  the 
Kaliphs  as  the  Imam  al  Muslimin,  —  that  he,  Malik- 
shah,  should  be  flouted  by  an  adventurer  of  evil 
reputation,  a  man  to  whom  he  had  been  a  bene 
factor,  was  too  monstrous ! 

Nevertheless,  he  now  saw  the  mistake  he  had 
made  in  underestimating  his  powers.  He  would 
put  him  down  with  ruthless  hand.  He  immediately 
ordered  his  chief  Amir,  Kizil  Zarik,  to  take  all  the 
troops  of  Khurasan  and  proceed  against  Hussein  of 
Ain,  while  Nizamu'1-Mulk  should  reduce  the  Castle 
of  Alamut  and  bring  Hasan  to  him  alive  or  dead. 

This  order  came  as  a  surprise  to  the  Wazir.  The 
look  of  the  Sultan  was  almost  threatening ;  his  order 
was  peremptory.  For  several  weeks  there  had  been 
a  slightly  chilling  atmosphere  about  the  Court,  and 
Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  not  failed  to  notice  it,  though  he 
thought  himself  too  secure  in  his  powerful  position 
to  allow  it  to  trouble  him.  He  understood  perfectly 
well  the  cause  of  it.  Malikshah's  youngest  wife, 
Khatun  Alyalaluiya,  was  engaged  in  an  intrigue  to 
secure  the  succession  to  the  throne  for  her  son, 
Mahmud,  at  the  expense  of  Barkiyarok,  whom  the 
Sultan  had  already  designated  as  his  heir.  She  had 
tried  to  induce  Nizamu'1-Mulk  to  side  with  her.  But 
the  Wazir,  who  had  been  the  young  Barkiyarok 


312  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Mirza's  tutor,  remained  true  to  him,  and  refused  to 
countenance  this  Palace  revolution.  His  influence 
would  have  been  preponderating,  and  Khatun  be 
came  his  bitter  enemy,  whereas  she  would  have 
been  more  than  friendly  to  him  if  he  had  been 
willing  to  meet  her  half  way.  It  was  the  old 
story  of  Yusuf  and  the  wife  of  the  Egyptian  Lord 
Treasurer.  So  well  did  Khatun  use  her  influence 
against  the  Wazir,  that  the  Sultan  insensibly  cooled 
toward  him. 

And  now  this  order  removed  Nizamu'1-Mulk  from 
the  Court,  and  made  him  responsible  for  the  peace  of 
the  realm,  as  if  he  were  commander-in-chief  of  the 
army.  What  for  any  other  man  would  have  been  a 
promotion  was  for  him  a  degradation,  and  he  under 
stood  it  so.  But  the  Sultan  was  not  unmindful  of 
Omar's  services  or  ungrateful.  He  summoned  him 
a  second  time,  and,  after  he  had  asked  him  many 
questions  regarding  his  interview  with  Hasan  and 
the  appearance  of  the  castle  and  its  inmates,  he 
said  : 

"Omar  Khayyam,  you  are  not  only  most  excel 
lent  among  poets,  but  you  have  acquitted  yourself 
with  credit  as  my  ambassador  entrusted  with  a 
v  peculiarly  trying  and  responsible  mission.  I  have 
arranged  with  my  Governor  of  Nishapur  that  your 
pension  is  to  be  paid  to  you  regularly,  as  long  as 
you  live,  and  may  many  happy  days  be  yours ! 


THE  SULTAN'S  PAVILION.  313 

Moreover,  whenever  it  may  please  you  to  return 
to  your  home  and  resume  your  work  in  your  ob 
servatory,  then  you  are  at  liberty  to  do  so.  This 
will  express  to  you  my  appreciation  of  your  ser 
vices  —  " 

Malikshah  extended  to  Omar  a  costly  ring  set 
with  magnificent  pearls,  and  commanded  a  slave 
to  bear  to  his  room  a  bag  full  of  gold  coins,  — 
enough  to  keep  him  in  comfort  for  many  days. 

"  I  shall  in  all  probability  come  to  reside  again 
in  Nishapur,"  continued  the  Sultan.  "If  I  do,  I 
promise  you  we  shall  have  some  more  talks  by  the 
river.  I  am,  you  know,  a  restless  man ;  already 
twelve  times  I  have  crossed  the  whole  of  my 
dominions.  But  life  is  short,  and  there  are  still 
many  things  left  undone.  In  spite  of  all  my  suc 
cesses,  I  could  envy  the  poet  of  Nishapur,  who  is 
content  to  watch  the  stars,  to  dream  by  the  river." 

Then  suddenly  changing  his  tone,  he  said  : 

"  Nizamu'1-Mulk  told  me  you  had  composed  a  qua 
train  on  the  new  calendar.  I  beg  of  you  repeat  it 
for  me." 

"  Was  it  this  ?  "  asked  Omar. 

"  '  Ah,  but  my  Computations,  People  say, 

Reduced  the  Year  to  better  reckoning?  — Nay, 

''Tivas  only  striking  from  the  Calendar 
Unborn  To-morrow  and  dead  Yesterday. .'  "  x 

1  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


314  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

"  Alas  !  "  exclaimed  the  Sultan,  "  there  is  no  dead 
yesterday.  It  lives  in  to-day,  and  will  live  to-mor 
row.  Omar,  I  could  wish  that  once  more,  even 
this  day,  I  might  with  you  drown  remembrance  in 
your  rosy  wine.  A  presentiment  of  misfortune 
glooms  my  mind.  I  was  wrong  to  send  the  faith 
ful  Nizamu'1-Mulk  against  the  Sheikh  of  the  Hash 
ish-eaters.  Something  tells  me  I  shall  never  see 
him  again.  Has  he  gone?  Let  us  have  one  more 
day  of  careless  ease  !  " 

Malfkshah  summoned  a  slave  : 

"Have  the  atabeg  Nizamu'1-Mulk  instantly  brought 
to  me ! " 

The  slave  silently  withdrew,  and  within  a  few 
moments  the  Wazir  appeared  at  the  entrance  of 
the  Sultan's  room.  Although  his  face  was  per 
fectly  calm,  it  could  be  seen  that  he  came  with 
the  expectation  that  he  was  about  to  meet  the 
death-stroke  of  royal  disfavor. 

Imagine  his  surprise  and  pleasure  when  he  was 
met  by  the  Sultan  with  a  sweet  but  melancholy 
smile,  when  he  found  his  master  gracious  and  affec 
tionate  as  of  yore,  and  with  him  his  friend  Omar, 
beaming  on  him  with  his  serene  and  handsome  face. 

Thus  sometimes  when,  as  one  goes  to  bed,  one 
looks  out  on  a  world  wrapped  in  gray  and  impene 
trable  fog,  and  says,  "  Ah,  to-morrow  we  shall  not 
see  the  sky,"  but  in  the  night  the  wind  suddenly 


THE  SULTAN'S  PAVILION.  315 

changes,  and  when  the  day  dawns  not  a  shred  of 
mist  clings  to  tree  or  shrub,  but  the  sun  rises  from 
behind  the  cloudless  mountains,  so  it  was  with 
Malikshah's  Wazir.  He  had,  as  it  were,  shivered 
in  the  chill  atmosphere  of  disfavor,  and,  still  expect 
ing  to  find  the  sun  of  Royalty  shrouded,  and  per 
haps  the  lightning  of  wrath  flashing  from  the  cloud, 
he  suddenly  emerged  into  sunny,  smiling  skies. 

"  We  must  have  one  more  day  together  before  we 
separate,"  cried  the  Sultan.  "Allah  only  knows 
when  we  three  may  meet  again.  See  to  it  that  no 
one  disturb  us.  We  will  dine  in  the  summer  pavil 
ion.  Nor  will  we  even  think  of  the  future.  Wait, 
how  is  it,  Omar,  Star  of  Improvisers  ? " 

"  Ah  !  fill  the  Cup,"  said  Omar. 

"  Ah  !  fill  the  Cup.     What  boots  it  to  repeat 
How  Time  is  slipping  underneath  our  Feet ; 

Unborn  To-morrow,  and  dead  Yesterday, 
Why  fret  about  them  if  To-day  be  sweet !  "  x 

" '  Unborn  To-morrow,  and  Dead  Yesterday '  again  ? " 
exclaimed  the  Sultan,  frowning  slightly.  "Let  us 
have  no  death's  head  at  our  feast !  " 

The  arrangements  were  perfected,  and  the  three 
men  proceeded  together  to  the  beautiful  pavilion, 
made  of  costly  wood  and  filled  with  rare  flowers. 

Here  the  Sultan  had  his  favorite  musicians  play, 

1  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


316  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

and  the  sound  of  the  lutes  mingled  pleasantly  with 
the  tinkle  of  the  fountains  dropping  into  porcelain 
bowls,  and  the  sighing  of  soft  breezes  among  the 
swaying  fronds  of  the  palms. 

After  they  had  feasted  on  game  brought  from  the 
mountains,  and  on  frozen  sherbets  and  other  delicious 
dainties,  and  the  Sultan's  trustiest  servants  had  pro 
vided  them  with  the  richest  wine  that  Omar  had 
ever  tasted,  Malfkshah  turned  to  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  and, 
reaching  to  him  his  hand,  said  : 

"Forget,  old  friend,  the  events  of  the  past  few 
months.  Woman  should  not  be  allowed  to  come 
between  men.  I  know,  and  have  known  all  the 
time,  that  my  interests  were  dearer  to  you  than  your 
own.  But  for  the  sake  of  peace  one  sometimes  shuts 
one's  eyes.  I  assure  you,  here  and  now,  —  and  I 
will  swear  by  the  Qu'ran,  —  that  I  will  take  your 
advice  and  make  no  change  in  the  succession.  Now 
for  good  cheer !  " 

This  gracious  tribute  to  his  Wazir's  faithfulness 
and  wisdom  was  naturally  most  grateful  both  to  him 
and  to  Omar,  and  whatever  atmosphere  of  appre 
hension  or  presentiment  may  have  at  first  hung 
oppressive  on  their  spirits  was  suddenly  lightened. 
The  influence  of  the  cheer-inspiring  wine  also  began 
to  be  felt,  and  Omar  was  called  on  to  repeat  some  of 
his  quatrains  in  praise  of  the  generous  Ruby  Kindled 
in  the  Vine ! 


THE  SULTAN'S  PAVILION.  317 

"  Come,  fill  the  Cup"  he  sang,  "  and  in  the  fire  of 

spring 
Your  winter-garment  of  Repentance  fiing  : 

The  Bird  of  Time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter,  — and  the  bird  is  on  the  Wing  ! 

"  Whether  at  Nishdpur  or  Babylon, 
Whether  the  Cup  with  sweet  or  bitter  run, 

The  Wine  of  Life  keeps  oozing  drop  by  drop, 
The  Leaves  of  Life  keep  falling  one  by  one. 

"  Waste  not  your  Hour,  nor  in  the  vain  pursuit 
Of  This  and  That  endeavor  and  dispute  ; 

Better  be  jocund  with  the  fruitful  Grape 
Than  sadden  after  none,  or  bitter  Fruit." 

These  and  many  more  Omar  repeated,  but  the 
Sultan  and  Nizamu'1-Mulk  could  not  help  noticing 
that,  in  spite  of  his  joyous  voice,  there  was  an  under 
tone  of  sadness  in  many  of  his  quatrains.  When,  for 
instance,  toward  the  end  he  repeated  the  following 
ruba'iyat : 

"  Yon  rising  Moon  that  looks  for  us  again  — 
How  oft  hereafter  will  she  wax  and  wane ; 

How  oft  hereafter  rising  look  for  us 
Through  this  same  garden,  — and  for  one  in  vain  !  " 

"And  when  like  her,  O  Sakt,  you  shall  pass 
Among  the  guests  Star-scattered  on  the  Grass, 

And  in  your  joyous  errand  reach  the  Spot 
Where  I  made  One  —  turn  down  an  empty  Glass .' "  * 

1  FitzGerald's  Paraphrase. 


318  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

There  was  no  doubt  in  their  mind  whom  he  meant 
by  one  ! 

"Have  you  never  heard  from  your  old  Greek 
Prince  Kreiton  ? "  asked  the  Sultan. 

"  Only  once  since  he  returned  to  Byzantium,"  re 
plied  Omar.  "  He  sent  me  a  manuscript  containing 
a  copy  of  some  of  the  poems  of  Anakreon,  and  with 
it  a  few  brief  lines  in  appreciation  of  his  visit  at 
Nishapur  and  of  the  Sultan's  generosity,  and  refer 
ring  with  deep  feeling  to  his  lonely  old  age  without 
his  daughter,  without  Agap£.  He  also  said  —  " 

But  Omar  paused  without  finishing  his  sentence. 

"  What  also  did  he  say  ?  "  demanded  MaHkshah. 

"  He  said  that  his  younger  daughter,  Leukonoe, 
was  the  image  of  Agap£,  and  — 

"Ah !  I  see,"  said  the  Sultan,  "he  invited  you  to 
come  to  —  " 

"Yes,  to  Athens  he  invited  me." 

"Do  you  not  feel  drawn  to  go?"  asked  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk. 

"Yes,  I  should  like  to  see  the  Western  lands," 
replied  Omar,  "and  if  I  were  young  once  more  I 
might  be  tempted,  but  I  am  growing  old  and,  if 
Leukonoe  is  like  Agap£,  it  would  be  too  painful  - 

The  afternoon  was  waning,  and  the  soft  light 
came  through  the  interwoven  foliage  of  the  terrace. 

"  We  must  now  return  to  the  actualities  of  life," 
said  the  Sultan.  "  It  is  too  late  to  recall  my  order 


THE   SULTAN'S  PAVILION.  319 

for  you  to  go  in  person  against  the  chief  of  the 
assassins,  but  I  have  no  doubt  of  your  success,  and 
if  we  once  have  Hasan  in  our  power,  we  will  devise 
together  a  plan  for  his  punishment.  I  can  not  avoid 
a  certain  admiration  for  his  audacious  genius."  v 

"  I  will  do  my  best  to  take  him  alive,"  said  the 
Wazir. 

"  Why  should  I  not  go  with  you  ? "  asked  Omar, 
addressing  the  Wazir.  "  I  have  been  in  the  castle. 
I  might  be  able  materially  to  help  in  case  it  were 
captured,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  Sultan. 

"  I  have  no  objections,  if  you  would  like  to  accom 
pany  him,"  said  Malikshah,  after  a  moment's  thought. 

Nizamu'1-Mulk  showed  in  his  noble  face  how 
deeply  gratified  he  was  at  Omar's  suggestion.  The 
matter  was  accordingly  decided,  and  the  three  friends 
separated. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

TO  WHAT  LENGTHS  HATRED  WILL  CARRY. 

THE  Wazir,  armed  with  his  mace  as  well  as  with 
his  bow  and  arrows,  and  clad  in  a  full  suit  of  armor 
which  had  been  made  by  a  Nishapur  armorer,  after 
the  pattern  of  one  captured  from  a  Greek  general, 
arrived  with  a  powerful  army,  and  encamped  on  the 
banks  of  the  Shah-rftd,  or  King's  River,  not  far  from 
the  Castle  of  Alamut. 

Accompanied  by  Omar  and  his  subordinate  gen- 
erals,  he  reconnoitered  the  castle,  and  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  it  was  not  to  be  captured  by  ordinary 
means.  It  would  require  a  long  siege,  but  might  it 
not  be  possible  first  of  all  to  cut  off  the  stream  or 
streams  of  water  that  supplied  the  castle  ?  And  yet 
the  extent  of  the  structure  was  enormous,  and  these 
streams  came  from  various  sources,  and,  moreover,  its 
own  drainage-surface  was  so  arranged  that  a  single 
rain-storm  would  furnish  drinking-water  enough  to 
last  for  days.  This  seemed  impracticable.  It  was 
a  serious  undertaking  in  many  ways.  Other  large 
and  important  castles  not  far  distant  had  come  into 
possession  of  Hasan's  followers,  either  by  treachery 


TO   WHA T  LENG THS  HA TRED   WILL  CARRY.      321 

or  by  the  treasonable  action  of  their  governors,  and 
constant  watch  had  to  be  maintained  against  surprise. 

Hasan  himself  was  kept  informed  by  spies  of  all 
that  took  place.  His  power  and  influence  had  been 
strangely  augmented  by  a  tragic  occurrence  in  his 
own  household.  One  of  his  most  resolute  and  faith 
ful  Priors  had  been  found  with  a  jewelled  dagger 
thrust  through  his  heart.  This  dagger  was  known 
to  be  Ostad  ben  Hasan's,  and  accordingly  the  young 
man  was  charged  with  the  crime.  What  was  a  rnej>  *• 
itorious  action  when  directed  against  any  one  whom 
Hasan  considered  an  enemy  was  worthy  of  punish 
ment  when  its  victim  was  one  of  Hasan's  allies  and 
friends. 

The  Grand  Council  of  the  Order  was  convened, 
and  Ostad  was  formally  tried  in  accordance  with 
their  rites  and  customs.  Hasan  himself,  unmoved 
by  the  fact  that  it  was  his  own  son,  presided  over 
the  solemn  tribunal,  and  when  the  vote  was  taken, 
and,  having  been  counted,  was  found  almost  unani 
mously  in  condemnation  of  him,  without  hesitation 
pronounced  against  him  the  penalty  provided  by 
their  rules,  and  himself  handed  him  the  poniard  by 
which  he  was  to  put  an  end  to  his  own  life  in 
presence  of  the  whole  assembly. 

One  of  the  Grand  Priors,  urging  the  extenuation    ' 
that  Ostad  had  confessed,  and  that  the  murder  had 
been  committed  under  unusual  provocation,  tried  to 


322  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

induce  Hasan  to  mitigate  the  sentence.  But  the 
father  refused  to  change.  He  had  the  keenness  to 
perceive  that  such  relaxation  of  the  stern  laws  of  his 
Order  would  be  deleterious  to  that  terrifically  strict 
discipline  that  he  had  succeeded  in  maintaining,  and 
consequently  he  had  looked  on  with  stern  and  cruel 
eyes  while  the  sacrifice  of  the  life  of  that  strange 
and  enigmatical  son  was  performed. 

It  was  felt  by  all  that  Hasan's  impartiality  was 
absolute,  and  that  in  the  interests  of  the  Order  he 
would  not  spare  himself  any  more  than  the  humblest 
Lasik  or  Aspirant,  in  the  whole  hierarchy. 

Accordingly,  when  it  was  known  that  a  dangerous 
and  difficult  service  was  required  of  one  or  two  of 
the  Fedaviye,  there  was  not  one  that  had  taken  the 
oath  who  did  not  burn  with  zeal  to  be  chosen. 

The  lot  fell  to  the  son  of  the  Arab  sheikh  at 
whose  house  Hasan  had  spent  so  many  months. 
When  the  lot  was  announced  Hasan  took  the  young 
man  by  the  girdle  and  led  him  into  an  adjoining 
room.  He  was  there  informed  what  his  duty  was. 
It  was  the  custom  at  Alamut  for  the  Fedaviye 
selected  for  a  specially  dangerous  service  to  be  given 
an  intoxicating  draught  of  hashish,  so  that,  after  the 
delicious  delirium  had  passed,  the  desperation  born 
of  the  reaction  might  nerve  him  to  any  deed  of  valor. 
Every  delight  that  imagination  and  the  excitation 
of  the  senses  could  inspire  in  a  human  being  was 


TO   WHAT  LENGTHS  HATRED   WILL  CARRY.      323 

thought  the  proper  stimulus  for  one  who  might  and 
probably  would  perish  in  the  desperate  deed.  The 
stern  and  strenuous  regime  prescribed  for  the  rank 
and  file,  the  frequent  fasts,  the  plain  and  almost 
forbidding  food,  the  abstinence  from  all  relationship 
with  women,  the  daily  exercise  in  arms,  with  sword 
and  bow,  contrasted  powerfully  with  this  foretaste 
of  paradise,  —  with  its  wine  and  music,  its  enticing, 
damsels  lily-armed  and  scented  with  musk,  its  sudden 
ending  in  the  madness  of  an  almost  divine  delirium, 
its  awakening  to  do  and  to  die !  No  wonder  there 
was  immense  ambition  and  rivalry  among  the  fear 
less  and  zealous  adherents  of  Hasan  ben  Sabah  to  be 
chosen  for  any  desperate  deed  of  daring. 

Abdishu  knew  perfectly  well  that  he  was  expected 
to  take  advantage  of  this  privilege  of  intoxication 
and  license ;  but  when  he  was  invited  to  enter  the 
inner  apartments  of  the  castle,  to  prepare  for  the 
mystic  rite  by  perfumed  baths  and  other  ceremonies, 
he  informed  Hasan  ben  Sabah  that  he  preferred  to 
forego  the  ordination. 

"  It  will  require  the  very  coolest  and  clearest  head 
to  accomplish  this  task,"  he  said.  "  I  do  not  wish  to 
cloud  my  mind  by  any  licensed  follies,  nor  do  I  need 
hashish  to  nerve  my  arm.  I  have  good  enough 
reason  to  hate  Malikshah  and  his  Wazir,  and  my 
hate  is  all  the  stimulus  I  need.  It  will  save  time  to 
let  me  start  immediately." 


324  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

Hasan  applauded  this  decision.  He  remembered 
that  Togrulbeg  had  once  made  a  great  requisition  on 
Al  Ijli's  family  for  camels,  and  that  the  old  sheikh 
had  felt  that  the  payment  was  far  too  small.  A 
large  edifice  of  hatred  can  be  erected  on  one  small 
coin,  and  Abdlshu  found  in  this  transaction  of  a 
preceding  Sultan  a  sufficient  cause  for  deadly  rancor, 
and  justification  for  any  treachery.  To  such  lengths 
will  hereditary  resentment  go. 

It  was  early  evening.  Darkness  had  fallen  early. 
A  fog  filled  the  valley,  and  no  one  in  the  castle 
would  have  suspected  the  presence  of  a  vast  army 
encamped  on  all  sides  of  it.  Nor  was  the  castle, 
with  its  mighty  battlements  and  frowning  towers, 
manifest  to  a  single  eye  in  all  the  host.  A  curtain 
as  dense  as  the  veil  of  Nonentity  shut  enemy  from 
enemy,  indeed  shut  friend  Trom  friend.  The  sen 
tinels,  walking  their  rounds,  occasionally  met  and 
exchanged  peremptory  greetings,  though  their  voices 
were  muffled  in  the  mist.  By  Nizamu'l-Mulk's 
orders  a  powerful  guard  invested  each  one  of  the 
entrances  of  the  castle,  so  that  in  case  any  sortie 
were  attempted  it  might  meet  with  swift  rebuttal. 
Around  the  whole  castle  the  lines  were  closely 
drawn,  and  it  seemed  as  if  it  were  impossible  for 
human  being  to  make  way  out  through  the  hedge 
of  armed  men. 

But   the   builder  of   the   castle   had   begun,  and 


TO   WHAT  LENGTHS  HATRED   WILL  CARRY.      $2$ 

Hasan  had  completed,  an  underground  passage 
which  was  tunnelled  through  the  living  rock,  was 
led  by  zigzags  and  slopes,  up  and  down,  was  pro 
vided  with  gates  and  bolts,  and  finally  emerged  far 
beyond  the  valley  in  a  glen  or  gorge.  The  outlet 
was  curiously  and  cleverly  concealed  among  vast 
masses  of  precipitated  rock  and  a  dense  growth  of 
underbrush. 

Through  this  labyrinth  a  man  was  silently  and 
cautiously  making  his  way,  occasionally  pausing  to 
listen  ;  for  though  the  chances  were  slight  of  his 
discovery,  he  would  not  allow  even  the  beating  of 
his  heart  to  prejudice  his  escape.  He  had  no  light ; 
his  only  guide  was  the  narrowness  of  the  walls,  which 
sometimes  approached  so  close  together  that  he  could 
barely  squeeze  through.  Then  again  it  dipped,  and 
he  could  hear  the  drip,  drip  of  water  falling  into  crev 
ices  ;  occasionally  the  air  grew  dense  and  unwhole 
some,  but  at  last  he  finished  his  laborious  expedition, 
and  emerged  from  the  inner  darkness  which  was 
palpable  into  the  outer  darkness  which  was  scarcely 
less  impenetrable. 

He  had  no  star  by  which  to  direct  his  course,  no 
lodestone  to  point  his  way.  The  cold  mist  blew 
into  his  face,  and  condensed  into  rain  in  the  meshes 
of  his  curly  young  beard.  He  was  fearless  and 
alert.  His  senses  were  keen.  Noiselessly  as  a 
panther  he  made  his  way  down  the  ravine,  which  he 


326  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

knew  would  bring  him  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
environing  army.  His  plan  was  all  made,  and  he 
proceeded  skilfully  to  carry  it  out.  Fortune  favored 
him. 

Coming  from  outside  he  crept  up  near  one  of 
the  outer  pickets,  and,  seizing  his  opportunity,  stabbed 
him  through  the  heart  from  behind,  and  at  the  same 
instant  threw  his  jubba,  or  seamless  jacket,  over  his 
head,  so  that  his  yell  was  stifled  before  it  escaped 
into  the  air.  Then  seizing  his  victim,  he  picked  him 
up,  and  carried  him  back  into  the  underbrush  from 
which  he  had  come. 

The  Persian  whom  he  had  killed  was  about  his 
own  size,  and  he  quickly  stripped  him,  and,  exchang 
ing  his  clothes  for  the  dead  man's  and  concealing 
the  body  in  the  bushes,  he  hastened  back  and  took 
his  place  as  sentinel.  How  it  was  that  no  one 
detected  the  substitution,  or  missed  the  murdered 
man,  is  one  of  those  mysterious  details  that  make 
us  say,  Truth  is  stranger  than  Fiction.  He  fell  as 
naturally  into  the  discipline  of  the  camp  as  if  he 
had  been  trained  to  it  all  his  life,  and  if  he  made  any 
blunders  of  awkwardness  they  were  not  noticeable. 

When  day  dawned  the  mist  precipitated  itself  into 
a  pouring  rain ;  the  wind  blew  fiercely,  and  the 
mountain-sides  became  roaring  torrents.  Abdlshu 
managed,  in  spite  of  the  rain,  to  secure  sufficient 
information  to  assist  him  in  his  design.  He  easily 


TO   WHAT  LENGTHS  HATRED   WILL  CARRY.     327 

learned  every  division  and  part  of  the  camp,  the 
strength  of  the  army  and  its  weakest  sides,  and,  after 
the  guard  had  been  changed  for  the  evening,  he 
profited  by  the  pitchy  darkness  to  crawl  out  of  his 
own  quarters  without  being  discovered,  and  to  ap 
proach  the  more  sheltered  esplanade,  where  the 
Wazir  and  the  chief  officers  were  encamped.  The 
heavy  rain  still  falling  made  the  torches  gutter  and 
burn  low.  No  one  believed  that  in  such  a  storm, 
and  in  such  a  night,  there  would  be  any  sortie  from 
the  castle,  or  that  any  danger  was  abroad. 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

LIFE    GOES    LIKE   THE    WIND. 

IN  his  water-proof  tent  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  who  had 
just  finished  his  evening  refection  in  company  with 
Omar,  was  remarking : 

"O  Khayyam,  we  were  unadvised  not  to  have 
taken  shelter  in  Dirkul ;  but  it  is  too  late  now  to 
complain,  and  we  are  fairly  comfortable  in  spite 
of  the  damp  air.  What  say  you  to  a  game  of 
Strategy  ? " 

This  game,  which  corresponded  pretty  closely  with 
our  modern  chess  and  got  its  name  from  the  Hindu 
cfiaturanga,  had  its  origin  more  clearly  defined  than 
we  now  see  it.  It  was  played  with  the  four  mem 
bers  or  divisions  of  the  army  —  the  elephants,  the 
horse,  the  chariots,  and  the  foot-soldiers.  What  is 
now  called  the  castle  was  then  termed  nikft,  the 
hero ;  there  was  a  queen,  farsfn  ;  for  the  knight  stood 
asp,  the  steed,  andy?/,  the  elephant,  took  the  place  of 
the  later  bishop.  The  very  name  check-mate  ap 
peared  in  the  word  shah-mat.  It  was  then,  as  now, 
a  game  which  required  deep  thought  and  serious  atten 
tion.  The  skilful  player  could  see  into  the  future,  and 

3*8 


LIFE  GOES  LIKE  THE  WIND.       329 

pre-det ermine  the  motions  of  his  subordinates.  What 
delight  to  make  the  apparently  unimportant  move 
that  should  condition  the  very  success  of  your  play ; 
to  be  so  far-seeing  that  not  one  of  your  opponent's 
apparently  unimportant  moves  shall  escape  your 
attention  or  leave  its  significance  unperceived  ! 

It  was  Omar's  favorite  game,  and  he  and  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk  would  often  spend  hours  in  its  intricacies. 
They  were  well  matched,  and  their  duels  were  often 
closely  drawn  and  most  exciting. 

When  Nizamu'1-Mulk  invited  Omar  to  join  him  in 
a  game,  and  the  attendants  were  making  ready  the 
table  and  arranging  the  lanterns,  Omar  quoted  two 
quatrains  recently  composed  by  him,  and  referring 
to  the  lantern  and  game  : 

"  '  We  are  no  other  than  a  moving  row 

Of  Magic-Shadow-shapes  that  come  and  go 

Round  with  the  Sun-illumined  Lantern  held 
In  Midnight  by  the  Master  of  the  Show; 

"  '  But  helpless  Pieces  of  the  Game  He  plays 
Upon  this  Chequer-board  of  Nights  and  Days; 

Hither  and  thither  moves,  and  checks,  and  slays, 
And  one  by  one  back  in  the  Closet  lays."1 "  x 

"Yes,  and  did  you  not  compose  one  with  the 
same  thought,  comparing  life  to  our  great  game  of 
chugan  ?  "  asked  Nizamu'1-Mulk. 

"  Was  it  this  : 

1  Fit/Gerald's  paraphrase. 


330  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

" '  The  Ball  no  question  makes  of  Ayes  and  Noes, 
But  Here  or  There  as  strikes  the  Player  goes, 
And  He  that  tossed  you  down  into  the  field 
He  knows  about  it  all —  He  knows  —  He  knows  ! ' " 

"  Yes,  that  was  it !  Tis  a  beautiful  fatalism,"  con 
tinued  Nizamu'1-Mulk.  "  It  often  seems  to  me  that 
we  are,  as  you  say,  '  the  helpless  Piece*  of  the  Game 
He  plays,'  and  that  we  are  moved  about  just  as  we 
move  our  elephants  and  horses.  Your  figure  is  fine, 
I  shall  never  forget  it,  '  We  are  the  pieces  ;  Heaven 
plays  the  game ;  we  are  moved  about  on  the  chess 
board  of  existence.' ' 

"  I  prefer  another  that  I  have  recently  composed," 
said  Omar. 

"  •  The  Morning  Finger  writes ;  and  having  writ, 
Moves  on  :  not  all  your  Piety  nor  Wit 

Shall  lure  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  Line, 
Nor  all  your  Tears  wash  out  a  Word  of  it?  w 

"  I  better  like  your  quatrains  about  Fate  than  those 
in  praise  of  wine,"  said  Nizam  u'l-Mulk. 

"How  would  it  be,  if  by  wine  I  meant  also  the 
divine  intoxication  of  the  spirit  of  God  ? "  asked 
Omar,  with  a  smile.  "  It  is  possible  to  read  that ' 
esoteric  signification  into  them,  and  once  when 
Hasan  ben  Sabah  did  my  humble  house  at  Nisha- 
pur  the  honor  of  a  visit,  he  predicted  that  in  time  to 
come  that  would  be  the  interpretation  of  them.  It 


LIFE    GOES  LIKE    THE    WIND.  331 

struck  me  as  not  a  bad  idea,  and  since  then  I  have 
composed  several  that  certainly  might  bear  that 
double  meaning.  I  rather  like  it  myself.  Besides, 
it  serves  to  annoy  the  overvirtuous,  and  you  know 
I  love  to  stir  up  those  that  have  no  imagination. 
Those  that  deserve  to  understand  will  understand." 

"  Methinks  you  have  become  more  spiritualized,  if 
I  may  use  that  expression,  since  our  poor  little  friend 
Agape  died,"  said  Nizamu'1-Mulk.  "I  understand 
you  ;  it  is  hard  for  you  to  show  your  serious  side 
to  people,  and  they  do  not  read  between  your 
lines.  But  I  do,  and  I  know  that  you  are  deeply 
religious." 

Omar  did  not  try  to  deny  the  assertion ;  he  had 
studied  the  mysteries  of  the  skies  too  thoroughly  to 
be  really  irreverent,  though  some  of  his  poems  are 
audacious  in  expressing  what  has  come  to  be  the  feel 
ing,  or  at  least  the  hope,  of  thousands ;  and  even  in 
his  day  there  were  many  men  of  philosophical  minds 
who  were,  like  him,  dissatisfied  with  the  husks  of 
Islam,  and  yet  who  had  not,  like  him,  worked  out  a 
philosophy  of  their  own. 

But  as  he  also  made  no  reply,  Nizamu'1-Mulk  said  : 
"  Come,  now,  let  us  have  our  game  and  see  which 
will  first  cry  kisht  ba  shah ! " 

They  sat  down  and  were  soon  deeply  engrossed 
in  their  mimic  duel.  The  servants  holding  the  lan 
terns  watched  with  keen  interest  the  meditated  moves, 


332  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

sometimes  ventured  as  by  intuition,  at  others  only 
after  careful  deliberation.  The  rain  was  still  patter 
ing  on  the  tent,  and  the  roar  of  the  torrents  mingled 
with  the  gusty  swooping  of  the  storm-wind  bending 
the  distant  forests. 

Suddenly  a  tall,  slender  young  man,  dressed  in  the 
garb  of  a  Khurasan  foot-soldier,  darted  through  the 
closed  flaps  of  the  tent,  crossed  the  intervening 
space,  and,  before  any  one  could  lay  hands  on  him, 
exclaiming,  "  MA  sha  allah  !  Thus  perish  all  tyrants 
and  robbers!"  drove  his  poniard  into  Nizamu'l-Mulk's 
back,  and  left  it  sticking  there.  He  also  aimed  a 
blow  at  Omar,  but  the  table  was  between  them,  and 
the  poet,  by  his  very  act  of  springing  to  grasp  the 
assassin,  escaped  any  serious  injury.  The  men  with 
the  lanterns  were  so  dazed  by  the  suddenness  of  the 
attack  that  they  stood  like  dummies,  and  not  till 
Omar,  who  never  lost  his  presence  of  mind,  shouted 
to  them  to  stop  the  man  did  they  realize  that,  if  they 
had  acted  with  instant  promptness,  they  might  have 
tripped  him  up  and  captured  him. 

But  Omar  missed  his  grasp ;  his  foot  became 
entangled  in  a  rug,  and  he  fell  prostrate,  thus 
escaping  the  assassin's  blow ;  but  Abdlshfl  took 
advantage  of  the  confusion  to  dart  by  the  guards 
and  hide  himself  in  the  darkness  and  rain.  The 
moment  he  was  out  of  the  range  of  torches  he 
ceased  running,  and,  being  dressed  like  one  of  the 


LIFE  GOES  LIKE  THE  WIND.       333 

regular  soldiers,  there  was  nothing  about  his  appear 
ance  to  excite  suspicion. 

So  even  while  he  heard  behind  him  the  beating  of 
the  great  drums  and  excited  shouts,  he  slowly  and 
cautiously  made  his  way  toward  the  outskirts  of  the 
camp. 

Meantime  Omar  Khayyam,  who  had  quickly  got 
to  his  feet,  issued  peremptory  orders,  which  were 
heeded  as  if  he  were  actually  in  command.  He 
summoned  the  chief  amirs,  who  were  directly 
responsible  to  the  Wazir,  and  the  ablest  surgeons 
connected  with  the  whole  army. 

But  nothing  was  to  be  done.  It  was  evident  that 
the  moment  the  dagger  was  withdrawn,  life  would 
follow  the  fatal  point.  Nizamu'1-Mulk  himself  rea 
lized  this,  and,  although  every  breath  that  he  drew 
was  attended  by  the  keenest  anguish,  he  used  the 
precious  moments  of  consciousness  to  give  his  last 
directions.  Omar  had  detached  from  the  dagger  a 
little  roll  of  parchment,  in  which  was  written  in 
Persian  characters  a  brief  and  terrible  message  from 
Hasan  ben  Sabah  : 

"  Hasan  forgets  not  insults :  he  repays." 

But  Omar  kept  it  from  the  knowledge  of  his 
friend,  and  Nizamu'1-Mulk  never  knew  that  he  was 
the  victim  of  the  basest  ingratitude  that  ever  stained 
the  character  of  living  soul. 


334  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

"  Take  my  hand  —  Omar  —  old  friend  —  a  Allah, 
I  am  —  passing  away  —  in  the  hand  of  the  wind  — 
tell  the  Sultan  —  I  should  have  tried  —  to  do  my 
best  —  but  —  the  moving  Finger !  —  Omar  —  to  you 
I  confide  my  son  —  Abul  Mosaf fer  ' Ali  —  be  a 
father  to  him  —  bear  a  message  to  —  Shirin  Khanum 
—  the  pain  —  is  too  great  —  remove  the  dagger  — 
let  me  die  !  " 

The  surgeon  saw  that  his  strength  was  failing 
rapidly  under  the  stress  of  his  agony,  and  took  it  on 
himself  to  concede  to  the  Wazir's  demand.  He 
pulled  the  dagger  from  the  wound;  it  was  followed 
by  the  red  blood  mingled  with  foam  from  the  lungs ; 
blood  also  gushed  from  his  mouth,  and  in  a  moment 
more  Nizamu'1-Mulk  lay  lifeless  on  the  rug. 

Thus  passed  away  the  greatest  man  of  his  day,  — 
a  man  of  whom  the  poet  El  Bekri  said : 

"  He  was  a  precious  pearl,  fashioned  of  pure  nobility  by 
the  Merciful  One ;  nay,  so  goodly  was  it  that  the  age  knew  not 
its  worth,  and  the  Creator,  jealous  for  its  honor,  returned  it  to 
the  shell." 

The  news  of  the  assassination  spread  like  wild-fire 
through  the  camp ;  almost  a  panic  succeeded  ;  it  was 
felt  that  if  Hasan's  emissaries  could  penetrate  un 
detected  even  into  the  headquarters  of  the  comman- 
der-in-chief,  anything  else  unexpected  and  dreadful 
might  occur.  The  storm  was  increasing  in  severity  ; 


LIFE  GOES  LIKE  THE  WIND.       335 

the  wind  blew  like  a  tempest,  and  many  tents  were 
levelled  to  the  ground.  A  general  alarum  was  beat, 
and  the  whole  army  was  called  to  arms.  The  pick 
ets  were  doubled,  and  a  thorough  search  was  made 
for  the  miscreant  who  had  done  the  vile  deed.  But 
Abdlshu's  propitious  star  never  deserted  him.  He 
succeeded  not  only  in  eluding  the  sentinels,  but  also 
in  making  his  way  back  into  the  Hawk's  Nest,  where 
the  report  of  his  success  was  received  by  Hasan 
with  a  fiendish  delight. 

In  the  morning  the  fury  of  the  storm  had  passed. 
The  sun  had  sufficient  power  to  penetrate  the  mists 
which  the  conquering  north  wind  drove  before  it, 
far  away  across  the  wide  continent.  But  there  was 
no  sun  of  Joy  to  dissipate  the  pall  of  sorrow  that 
hung  heavy  over  the  camp.  It  was  decided  that  the 
Wazir's  body  should  lie  in  state  throughout  the  day, 
and  the  army  was  permitted  to  view  the  noble  face 
for  the  last  time.  It  bore  no  trace  of  suffering,  but 
wore  an  expression  of  absolute  serenity,  as  it  were 
of  joy. 

Had  there  been  any  way  of  reaching  Hasan  in  his 
castle,  had  there  been  any  way  of  tearing  the  castle 
from  the  beetling  precipice,  there  would  have  been 
not  one  stone  left  on  another  by  night ;  but  it  was 
impregnable ;  it  frowned  down  on  the  angry  host  as 
an  island  crag  stands. unmoved  amid  the  onslaught  of 
the  ocean  in  a  tempest.  Its  tremendous  battlements 


336  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

towered  above  their  loftiest  scaling-ladders  ;  its  small 
windows  were  above  the  reach  of  their  arrows,  and 
no  fire  which  could  be  kindled  around  their  solid  gates 
would  suffice  to  burn  a  way  into  the  long  and  wind 
ing  passages,  protected  by  more  than  one  portcullis 
and  with  recklessly  brave  defenders  at  every  oilet,  so 
that  one  man  might  keep  back  a  host. 

Thus  Hasan  was  able  to  laugh  his  foes  to  scorn. 
He  was  amply  provisioned  ;  there  was  no  possibility 
of  his  water  supply  running  dry ;  his  most  danger 
ous  enemy  was  dead  at  his  feet.  He  inwardly 
gloated  over  his  triumph,  but  before  any  spectator 
he  was  as  calm  and  unmoved  as  if  he  were  only  a 
farmer  preparing  to  do  a  spring  ploughing.  Like 
a  volcano  which  outwardly  smiles  back  to  the  smiling 
sun,  bearing  aloft  rank  upon  rank  of  prosperous  vil 
lages  embowered  in  vineyards  and  olive  plantations, 
but  far  down  within  its  secret  channels  glows  the 
tortured  lava  burning  with  desire  to  rush  forth  and 
destroy,  so  Hasan,  calmly  regulating  the  affairs  of 
his  Order,  calmly  listening  to  the  report  of  his  secret 
emissaries,  who  returned  to  tell  of  their  success  in 
making  way  with  this,  that,  or  the  other  ruler  whose 
influence  stood  in  the  way  of  his  ambitions,  seeming 
to  all  who  saw  him  the  very  embodiment  of  impas 
sive,  cold,  and  heartless  power,  was  inwardly  quick 
with  consuming  passions.  Even  when  his  heart  gave 
a  bound  at  hearing  of  Abdlshu's  unexpected  success 


LIFE    GOES  LIKE    THE    WIND.  337 

he  gave  no  sign.  He  listened  to  the  young  Arab's 
glowing  account  of  his  adventurous  visit  to  the 
Wazir's  camp ;  he  nodded  with  grim  appreciation 
when  Abdishu  told  how  he  had  cleared  the  way  by 
plunging  his  dagger  into  the  sentinel's  back ;  he 
almost  smiled  when  he  told  how  he  had  succeeded  in 
entering  the  tent  where.  Nizamu'1-Mulk  was  playing 
chess. 

"  With  whom  was  he  playing  ?  "  demanded  Hasan. 

"  I  think  it  was  Omar,  the  chief  astronomer," 
replied  the  Arab. 

"  Would  that  you  had  killed  him  also !  "  exclaimed 
Hasan.  "  But  since  you  have  accomplished  so  much 
I  will  let  my  eyes  come  together  concerning  the 
omission." 

"Indeed  I  struck  at  him,"  explained  the  Arab, 
"but  I  had  left  my  second  dagger  in  the  heart  of 
the  Wazir,  and  I  had  no  weapon  left." 

"  Alhamd  lillah  !  "  exclaimed  Hasan  with  assumed 
piety.  "  Praise  God  for  so  much  !  You  have  earned 
your  promotion.  In  the  coming  moon  you  shall  be 
made  a  Refik." 

The  Arab  bowed.  Such  praise  from  Hasan  meant 
more  than  many  more  words  would  have  meant  in 
the  mouth  of  another  man. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

IN    OLD    EMBERS    NEW    FLAMES. 

OMAR  KHAYYAM  himself  undertook  to  carry  the 
news  of  the  assassination  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk  to 
Marv.  It  was  arranged  that  the  body  of  the 
murdered  minister  should  be  brought  as  speedily 
as  possible  to  the  capital,  where  it  might  be  buried, 
or,  if  it  were  thought  best,  it  might  be  taken  to  the 
city  of  Tus,  the  revenues  of  which  had  for  many 
years  been  diverted  to  his  private  use.  The  inhabi 
tants  of  that  region  were  proud  of  him,  for  he  was 
born  at  Radagan,  near  Tus. 

Omar  travelled  post,  and  in  less  than  a  week  was 
at  the  palace.  Malfkshah  was  amazed  to  see  him, 
but  welcomed  him  with  his  usual  gracious  affability. 
It  was  hard  for  Omar  to  speak,  and  the  Sultan  saw 
that  some  trouble  weighed  on  him. 

"Khayyam,"  he  said,  "something  unusual  dis 
turbs  the  serenity  of  your  mind.  Does  Hasan  ibn 
'AH  ibn  Ishak  Tus!  send  you  to  me  with  evil 
tidings  ?  Speak  and  have  no  fear  !  " 

338 


IN  OLD   EMBERS  NEW  FLAMES.  339 

Omar's  voice  trembled,  as  he  made  his  reply : 

"  Your  Majesty,  I  bring  bad  tidings,  but  not  from 
the  Wazir.  He,  whom  I  was  privileged  to  call  my 
friend,  the  great  Regulator  of  the  Realm,  has  been 
foully  dealt  with.  As  we  sat  together  in  his  tent, 
under  the  very  shadow  of  Alamut  Castle,  an  emissary 
of  the  Sheikh  ul  Jebal  succeeded  in  eluding  the  vigi 
lance  of  the  guards,  and,  before  any  one  could  inter 
pose,  plunged  a  dagger  into  his  lungs  from  behind. 
He  lived  only  long  enough  to  express  his  fealty  to  his 
Sultan,  commended  to  me  the  care  of  his  young  son, 
and  died.  The  miscreant  escaped ;  it  was  'stormy, 
and  exceedingly  dark.  Even  now  the  train  bearing 
his  body  is  on  its  way  to  Marv.  I  hastened  on  in 
advance  to  apprise  your  Majesty  of  the  terrible 
occurrence." 

Malikshah  was  stricken  dumb  with  horror.  His 
only  consolation  was  that  before  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had 
started  he  had  given  him  one  last  mark  of  his  confi 
dence  and  esteem,  and  had  not  sent  him  thus  to  his 
death,  supposing  that  his  sovereign's  heart  was 
alienated  from  him. 

"  Nizamu'l-Mulk's  wife  has  gone  to  Tus,"  said  the 
Sultan.  "  She  must  be  notified.  The  cruel  tidings 
must  be  gently  broken  to  her.  .1  have  confidence 
in  your  tact.  Will  you  undertake  also  this  trying 
mission  ? "  asked  Malikshah,  after  he  had  somewhat 
recovered  from  the  first  shock. 


340  OMAR    THE    TEffTMAKER. 

Omar,  of  course,  willingly  complied  with  a  com 
mand  so  graciously  expressed,  and  started  immediately 
for  Tus. 

Shirin  Khanum,  the  Wazlr's  only  wife,  was  a 
woman  as  remarkable  in  her  way  as  Nizamu'1-Mulk 
was  in  his.  She  was  one  who  thought  for  herself. 
Like  some  of  the  Moorish  women  in  Spain,  she  had 
thrown  off  the  trammels  of  her  religion,  and  actively 
participated  in  the  questions  that  interested  her  hus 
band.  She  was  able  to  read  and  write,  and  she  com 
posed  very  creditable  verses.  Moreover,  she  was 
refined  and  beautiful  in  person  and  manners.  Omar 
had  often  seen  her,  and  talked  intimately  with  her, 
and  he  felt  for  her  the  worship  that  a  poet  feels  for 
a  woman  who  can  appreciate  and  understand  him. 
He  knew  perfectly  well  that  Nizamu'1-Mulk  would 
never  have  retained  his  responsible  position  under 
two  emperors,  had  it  not  been  for  the  wise  counsels 
of  his  beloved  wife. 

It  was  with  strange  feelings,  therefore,  that  Omar 
undertook  the  errand  to  Tus.  As  guardian  to  Abul 
Mosaffer  'Ali,  the  Wazlr's  son,  a  youth  rapidly 
approaching  maturity,  he  would  be  obliged  to  see 
much  of  Shirfn  Khanum.  How  would  she  like  such 
a  relationship  ?  Omar  knew  that  she  was  friendly  to 
him,  that  she  liked  to  talk  with  him,  and  was  able 
to  keep  up  her  end  of  an  argument,  even  when  it 
treated  of  pretty  abstruse  questions.  And  now  he 


IN   OLD   EMBERS   NEW  FLAMES.  34! 

was  going  to  her  to  announce  the  death  of  her 
renowned  husband ! 

He  was  expeditious  in  setting  forth,  and  expedi 
tious  in  his  journey ;  for  the  Sultan  advised  him  to 
bring  Shirin  Khanum  immediately  back  to  Marv, 
where  his  intention  was  to  erect  a  magnificent  tomb 
to  the  martyred  Wazir.  He  reached  Tus  without 
adventure,  and  found  Nizamu'l-Mulk's  residence 
without  difficulty.  Shirin  Khanum  received  him 
graciously.  She  was  sitting  on  a  divan  in  a  beautiful 
room  decorated  in  what  is  called  ardish-work,  where 
bits  of  mirror  are  inlaid  in  quaint  mosaics  in  the 
plaster.  Her  son,  a  handsome  youth,  with  regular 
features  and  his  father's  kindly  eyes,  was  sitting 
with  her.  She  immediately  ordered  her  farrash  to 
bring  refreshments,  but  her  quick  eye  and  keen 
psychic  intelligence  told  her  that  something  was 
wrong.  It  did  not  become  her  to  ask  Omar  out 
right  what  trouble  bent  his  dark  brows ;  but  the 
question  trembled  on  her  lips.  Sometimes  words 
are  unnecessary.  Omar,  his  generous  heart  burst 
ing  with  anguish  at  the  loss  of  his  friend,  and  the 
difficulty  of  telling  his  widow  the  circumstances,  was 
at  a  loss  how  to  begin.  Is  there  not  a  sort  of  lan 
guage  that  souls  united  in  internal  harmony  under 
stand  without  words  ?  It  seemed  as  if  Shirin 
Khanum  read  Omar's  very  soul  : 

"•You  come  to  bring  me  bad  tidings  !  "  she  cried. 


342  OMAR    THE    TEffTMAKEK. 

"  My  husband  —  has  anything  happened  to  him  !  Oh, 
Allah,  have  mercy  !     He  is  dead  !  " 

"  Baji ! "  said  Omar,  with  an  infinite  tenderness 
in  this  word  which  means  so  much  and  so  little. 
"  My  sister,  my  dearest  friend  and  benefactor  said  to 
himself  these  words  : 

"'// thou  desirest  Him,  be  separated  from  wife  and  children, 
Bravely  move  thine  abode  from  relatives  and  friends  ; 
Whatever  is,  is  an  hindrance  on  the  road  for  thet ; 
How  canst  thou  journey  with  these  hindrances  f     Remove 
them:  " ' 

It  was  a  strange  impulse  which  induced  him  to 
quote  one  of  his  own  poems  at  such  a  moment ;  but 
it  was  a  happy  impulse.  Although  Shirin  Khanum 
had  said,  correctly,  "  My  husband  is  dead,"  Omar's 
reply  seemed  to  make  the  effect  of  the  announce 
ment  a  little  less  dreadful. 

"He  was  wounded  doing  his  duty,"  continued 
Omar.  "  He  breathed  out  his  life  in  the  service  of 
his  Sultan.  His  last  word  was  a  message  of  love 
to  his  wife.  The  Sultan  sent  me  to  you  to  bear 
his  deepest  condolences  and  to  be  your  escort  back 
to  Marv.  I  await  your  command.  Pray,  regard  me 
as  your  faithful  servant." 

No  man,  however  kindly  he  may  be,  can  feel  sat 
isfied  with  his  manner  of  breaking  tidings  of  disaster 
to  those  who  are  to  suffer  from  it.  But,  after  all,  it 

*  £.  Heron  Allen's  translation. 


IN  OLD   EMBERS  NEW  FLAMES.  343 

is  not  so  much  the  words  that  one  says  as  it  is  the 
spirit  in  which  they  are  said.  Omar's  presence  was 
comforting,  the  sight  of  his  beautiful  face  softened  by 
sympathy  was  a  benediction.  Consequently  Shirin 
Khanum  was  calmer  than  she  would  have  believed 
it  possible.  She  allowed  Omar  to  give  the  neces 
sary  orders  for  immediate  departure.  There  weie 
many  things  which  required  wise  direction.  The 
Wazir's  son  would  inherit  his  father's  estate,  and  as 
a  large  part  of  it  was  situated  in  his  native  province 
and  in  the  city  of  Tus,  it  seemed  well  to  take  some 
preliminary  steps  for  its  maintenance ;  this  Omar 
was  enabled  to  do.  Fortunately  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had 
kept  his  wife  informed  of  his  finances,  and,  more 
over,  he  had  left  in  her  hand  a  sort  of  will,  called 
Wasiyat,  for  the  guidance  of  Mosaffer  'Ali,  in  case, 
as  seemed  probable,  he  should  come  into  his  father's 
place.  These  details  consumed  several  days  before 
they  were  satisfactorily  adjusted. 

Omar  had  constantly  fresh  reason  for  admiration 
for  Shirin  Khanum's  dignified  character,  her  keen 
ness  of  perception,  the  delicacy  of  her  sentiments, 
the  ripeness  of  her  judgment,  and  the  serenity  of 
her  grief ;  she  allowed  herself  no  transports  of 
despair,  but  in  every  way  showed  herself  the  worthy 
consort  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk. 

When  at  last  Omar  arrived  with  Shirin  Khanum 
and  her  numerous  following  of  servants  at  Marv,  he 


344  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

found  the  Sultan  very  ill ;  he  was  suffering,  it  was 
said,  from  a  mysterious  malady,  the  nature  of  which 
baffled  the  physicians.  Omar,  who  had  expected 
that  all  the  arrangements  for  Nizamu'l-Mulk's 
funeral  would  have  been  made  on  a  scale  commen 
surate  with  his  fame,  was  admitted  at  once  to  the 
Sultan's  sick-room.  Malikshah  had  asked  if  Omar 
were  yet  returned,  and  when  told  that  he  had  just 
arrived  with  the  family  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  he  desired 
to  see  him.  Omar  was  shocked  at  the  Sultan's 
appearance,  but  he  was  quick  enough  to  suspect 
the  cause.  The  moment  his  eyes  met  the  Sultan's 
he  read  in  them  his  own  thought :  Malikshah  was 
slowly  dying  from  the  effects  of  poison,  and  he 
needed  not  his  sovereign's  whispered  word : 

"  The  Sheikh  ul  Jebal  has  stricken  me  also  !  He 
is  the  evil  genius  of  my  reign." 

He  extended  his  hand ;  the  bloodless  fingers 
showed  how  the  flesh  was  wasted. 

"  Some  slow  and  deadly  poison  has  been  admin 
istered  to  me.  I  am  doomed." 

Omar  tried  to  encourage  the  Sultan.  But  the 
fixed  idea  that  his  case  was  hopeless  had  taken 
possession  of  his  mind. 

"No!"  said  MaHkshah,  "Hasan  ben  Sabah  has 
taken  from  me  the  very  staff  of  my  sovereignty. 
I  was  quickly  punished  for  having  distrusted  for 
even  a  moment  that  noblest  and  most  generous  of 


IN  OLD   EMBERS  NEW  FLAMES.  345 

servants.  If  I  had  hearkened  to  his  advice,  I  should 
not  have  permitted  the  persecution  of  the  Christian 
pilgrims.  I  had  nothing  against  them  ;  now  I  know 
all  Europe  will  come  in  defence  of  the  holy  places 
and  will  inflict  on  Islam  frightful  losses.  It  was  a 
woful  mistake." 

Malikshah  referred  to  a  persecution  of  the  pil 
grims  to  Jerusalem  which  had  been  instigated  a 
few  years  before  by  the  Mollahs,  and  which  Niza- 
mu'1-Mulk  opposed.  The  Sultan  allowed  himself 
to  be  overpersuaded.  This  led  directly  to  the 
Crusades. 

Malikshah,  with  the  prophetic  eye  of  approaching 
dissolution,  seemed  to  see  the  cataclysm  that  fol 
lowed  his  death.  He  knew  well  enough  that  without 
the  organizing  and  controlling  hand  of  Nizamu'l- 
Mulk,  the  vast  empire  which  he  had  so  laboriously 
constructed  would  fall  apart  as  the  empire  of  Alex 
ander  had  collapsed.  Could  he  have  foreseen  even 
with  the  clairvoyant  vision  of  genius  that  within  less 
than  a  decade  Antioch  would  be  besieged,  Askalon 
fall,  and  Baldwin  reign  as  king  of  Jerusalem  ? 

No,  the  detailsfwere  lacking,  but  in  the  mists  that 
blurred  his  fading  eyes  his  imagination  saw  over 
whelming  armies  and  stricken  banners,  and  sacked 
cities  and  desolated  plains. 

Malikshah  was  dying,  and  not  even  the  glory  that 
had  crowned  his  reign  could  console  him  in  the 


346  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

foreboding  prognostications  which  his  experience 
and  his  wisdom  and  the  melancholy  engendered 
by  the  subtle  poison  coursing  through  his  thicken 
ing,  sluggish  blood  only  too  truly  implanted  in  his 
mind. 

But  he  found  no  little  pleasure  in  Omar's  pres 
ence,  in  his  cheerful  philosophy,  which  bore  with 
equal  equanimity  the  sorrows  and  the  joys  of  life,  in 
his  wise  reflections,  in  his  wit  and  perspicacity.  Ill 
as  he  was,  and  conscious  of  his  approaching  end, 
melancholy  in  his  inclinations,  he  insisted  on  Omar's 
staying  with  him  for  several  hours  every  day.  He 
bade  him  repeat  his  more  inspiring  quatrains,  espe 
cially  those  referring  to  the  greatness  of  departed 
kings  and  to  the  inevitableness  of  death.  Often  and 
often  he  made  Omar  repeat  the  morning  ruba'l ;  he 
never  wearied  of  it : 

"  Awake  !  for  Morning  in  the  Bowl  of  Night 
Has  flung  the  Stone  that  puts  the  Stars  to  Flight: 

And  lo  !  the  Hunter  of  the  East  has  caught 
The  Sultan's  Turret  in  a  Noose  of  Light!" 

And  this : 

"  Ir&m  indeed  is  gone  with  all  his  Rose 
And  Jamshydns  Seven-ringed  Cup  where  no 

one  knows; 

But  still  a  Ruby  kindles  in  the  Vine, 
And  many  a  garden  ay  the  Water  blows" 


IN  OLD   EMBERS  NEW  FLAMES.  347 

This,  too,  pleased  him  : 

"  The  Worldly  Hope  men  set  their  Hearts  upon 
Turns  Ashes  —  or  it  prospers ;  and  anon, 

Like  Snow  upon  the  Desert's  dusty  Face, 
Lighting  a  little  hour  or  two  —  is  gone  ! 

"  Think,  in  this  battered  Caravanserai 
Whose  Portals  are  alternate  Night  and  Day, 

How  Sultan  after  Sultan  with  his  Pomp 
Abode  his  destined  Hour,  and  went  his  way" 

Is  it  not  a  pleasant  picture  to  see  the  Sultan  and 
the  Poet  in  this  familiar  intercourse  ?  Omar,  with  his 
fine  face  aglow,  his  eyes  resting  affectionately  and 
tenderly  on  the  weak  and  weary  monarch,  who  lay 
so  patiently  on  his  royal  couch  demanding  and  ever 
demanding  the  music  of  those  exquisite  lines  : 

"  Up  from  Earth's  Centre  through  the  Seventh  Gate 
I  rose,  and  on  the  Throne  of  Saturn  Sate, 

And  many  a  knot  unravelV  d  by  the  Road; 
But  not  the  master-knot  of  Human  Fate. 

"  There  was  the  Door  to  which  I  found  no  Key ; 
There  was  the  Veil  through  I  might  not  see  : 

Some  little  talk  awhile  of  Me  and  Thee 
There  was  —  and  then  no  more  of  Thee  and  Me. 

"  So  when  that  Angel  of  the  darker  Drink 
At  last  shall  find  you  by  the  river-brink, 

And  offering  his  Cup,  invite  your  Soul 
Forth  to  your  Lips  to  quaff — yoti  shall  not  shrink. 


348  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKEK. 

"  Why,  if  the  Soul  can  fling  the  Dust  aside 
And  naked  on  the  Air  of  Heaven  ride, 

Were't  not  a  Shame  —  were't  not  a  Shame 
In  this  clay  carcase  crippled  to  abide  f 

«*  'Ttr  but  a  Tent  -where  takes  his  one  day's  rest 
A  Sult&n  to  the  realm  of  Death  addrest; 
The  Sult&n  rises  and  the  dark  Ferrdsk 
Strikes,  and  prepares  it  for  another  Guest. 

"  And  fear  not  lest  existence  closing  your 
Account,  and  mine,  should  know  the  like  no  more; 

The  eternal  Sakl  from  that  Bowl  has  poured 
Millions  of  Bubbles  like  ust  and  will  pour."  * 

A  man  who  thinks  overmuch  of  himself  may  be 
unhappy  because  he  thinks  the  world  does  not  think 
highly  enough  of  him.  Any  fancied  insult  or  neg 
lect  strikes  the  iron  into  his  soul.  But  the  truly 
great  man  recognizes  of  how  little  importance  he 
is,  how  small  a  space  his  orbit  fills,  and  therefore 
accepts  whatever  homage  the  world  gives  him  as 
far  above  his  deserts.  He  demands  nothing  and 
gets  much ;  while  he  who  expects  and  demands 
great  rewards  must  necessarily  be  disappointed 
because  his  realization  can  never  equal  the  hunger 
and  thirst  of  his  expectation.  Malflcshah  was  a 
really  great  man,  and  these  quatrains  of  Omar, 
though  they  pointed  directly  to  the  insignificance 

1 E.  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


IN  OLD  EMBERS  NEW  FLAMES.  349 

of  the  most  opulent  and  powerful  of  mortals,  ex 
pressed  the  mood  of  the  dying  monarch. 

What  had  he  of  consolation  ?  The  Qu'ran  could 
really  give  him  little.  To  one  who  has  enjoyed  the 
highest  heights  of  earthly  enjoyment,  the  prospect 
of  a  material  heaven  is  a  cheerless  continuation  of 
a  diet  of  the  apples  of  Sodom.  But  Omar,  with 
his  serenity  of  epicureanism,  though  he  had  nothing 
positive  to  offer,  and  only  a  magnificent  and  poetic 
expression  of  the  negative,  or  rather  the  unaffirm- 
ative,  met  the  eternal  question  with  such  sweetness 
of  confidence  that,  even  if  a  man  were  swallowed  up 
into  the  Ocean  of  Nonexistence  as  a  pebble-cast 
disappears  in  the  Haft  Qulzum,  or  Seven  Seas,  it 
was  all  well,  it  was  a  part  of  the  scheme  of  the 
universe.  To  a  conceited  man,  whether  monarch 
or  peasant,  such  marked  depreciation  of  the  indi 
vidual  would  have  been  painful.  Malfkshah,  feeling 
like  another  Oriental  monarch  that  all  was  vanity,  — 
his  conquests,  his  wealth,  his  titles,  his  popularity, 
his  fame,  his  life, — enjoyed  the  poetic  statement, 
especially  when  it  came  in  such  exquisite  strains 
from  Omar's  rich  and  well-trained  voice. 

The  last  lines  that  Omar  was  privileged  to  recite 
were  those  two  finely  imaginative  quatrains  : 

"  /  sent  my  Soul  through  the  Invisible, 
Some  letter  of  that  After-life  to  spell: 


350  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

And  by  and  by  my  Soul  returned  to  me, 
And  answered '  /  myself  am  Heaven  and  Hell:  * 

M  Heaven  but  the  Vision  of  fulfilled  Desire, 
And  Hell  the  Shadow  from  a  Soul on  fire, 

Cast  on  the  Darkness  into  which  Ourselves, 
So  late  emerged  from,  shall  so  soon  expire"  * 

That  day  his  visit  was  shortened,  as  the  Sultan's 
strength  was  failing ;  indeed,  he  saw  him  only  once 
again.  The  slow  but  deadly  poison  was  working  its 
destined  end.  Just  five  and  thirty  days  after  the 
assassination  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk  the  Sultan  Malfkshah 
expired. 

During  his  illness  every  arrangement  for  the  suc 
cession  was  perfected,  and  Barkiyarok  became  Sultan 
without  any  shock. 

On  the  very  day  that  he  first  mounted  the  throne 
a  singular  discovery  was  made  :  when  he  woke  in 
the  morning  a  dagger  was  found  firmly  imbedded 
in  the  felt  farsh  at  the  head  of  his  couch.  On  a 
parchment  were  written  these  words  : 

"  Were  not  the  Sultdns  favor  dear  this  dagger  had 
been  thrust  into  his  heart" 

It  was  signed  with  Hasan  ben  Sabah's  signature. 

This  warning  was  sufficiently  startling.  It  was 
felt  that  no  one  was  safe.  A  great  sense  of  uneasi 
ness  pervaded  the  palace,  making  deeper  the  gloom 

1  E.  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


IN  OLD   EMBERS  NEW  FLAMES.  351 

caused  by  the  death  of  Malikshah  and  his  Wazir. 
Who  could  have  approached  so  close  to  the  royal 
couch  ?  Some  slave,  doubtless.  Barkiyarok  had  no 
doubt  of  it,  and  every  person  who  had  access  to  the 
neighborhood  of  his  apartment  during  that  night 
—  every  slave  and  guard  —  was  executed  the  follow 
ing  day. 

But  owing  to  various  political  complications  the 
Sultan  withdrew  his  armies  from  the  Rudbar  district, 
and  left  Hasan  ben  Sabah  in  complete  control  of 
that  mountainous  region.  Hasan  took  this  retreat 
as  tacit  confession  of  his  independence,  and  made  no 
further  attempt  to  take  the  life  of  the  Turk  whom 
he  despised. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

IRAM    IS    GONE    WITH    ALL    HIS    ROSE. 

AFTER  participating  in  the  imposing  ceremonies 
incident  to  the  burial  of  the  Sultan  and  his  great 
minister,  Barkiyarok  entered  upon  a  comparatively 
uneventful  reign.  He  appointed  his  brother,  Sanjar, 
governor  of  Nishapur,  and  sent  his  younger  brother, 
Mahmud,  who  had  been  the  cause  of  some  agitation 
in  favor  of  his  appointment  as  heir  to  Mah'kshah,  on 
a  military  expedition  to  Asia  Minor.  Barkiyarok 
had  little  of  his  father's  energy,  but  he  had  con 
siderable  tact,  and  thus  was  enabled  to  hold  together 
the  larger  part  of  the  empire. 

Omar,  who  had  remained  in  Marv,  was  all  the 
time  acting  in  consultation  with  Shirtn  Khaniim  in 
regard  to  the  best  interests  of  his  ward.  At  his 
suggestion,  Barkiyarok  gladly  took  him  as  his  own 
special  page,  and  promised  to  initiate  him  into  the 
duties  that  would  lead  him  ultimately  into  much 
the  same  position  that  Nizamu'1-Mulk  had  so  mar 
vellously  graced. 

Omar   found   ever   increasing  delight    in  his  ac- 


IS   GONE    WITH  ALL   HIS  ROSE.        353 

quaintance  with  the  stately,  dignified,  and  beautiful 
woman  whom  he  had  revered  ever  since  he  first  saw 
her. 

In  place  of  the  hot  fire  of  passionate  desire  burn 
ing  in  his  heart,  — -  such  as  he  had  known  for  Agape, 
—  there  came  the  chaste  white  flame  of  worship. 
He  knew  that  even  as  Shirin  Khanum  had  been 
the  true  and  faithful  wife  to  his  friend,  so  it  was 
right  that  he  might  hope  that  in  time  she  might 
graft  her  affection  on  him.  Did  not  the  Sacred 
Book  say  that  if  a  widow  went  out  from  her  hus 
band's  home  there  was  no  crime  in  what  they  did 
for  themselves  in  reason  ?  And  God  is  mighty  and 
wise ! 

The  report  came  that  Nishapur  was  in  a  state 
of  great  ferment,  owing  to  Sanjar's  attempt  to 
drive  out  the  Keramiyah  heretics,  who  believed  in 
a  strange  form  of  anthropomorphism.  He  was  led 
into  this  act  of  persecution  by  the  Hujja-tu'l  Islam, 
who  represented  that  they  were  a  dangerous  and 
pestilential  sect. 

San  jar,  who  inherited  Mah'kshah's  partiality  for 
Omar,  sent  him  a  letter  stating  that  the  riots  in  the 
city  had  caused  great  bloodshed,  and  that  perhaps 
it  would  be  advisable  for  him  to  stay  away  till  the 
trouble  was  quelled. 

On  the  very  evening  of  the  day  that  he  received 
this  friendly  warning,  a  startling  incident  occurred. 


354  OMAR    THE    TENTMAh'ER. 

He  was  seated  in  front  of  a  little  fire  of  sweet- 
scented  wood  which  was  burning  on  a  basis  of  argol, 
for  the  night  was  cool.  He  was  pondering  over 
the  possibilities  of  inducing  Shirin  Khanum  to  live 
in  Nishapur ;  he  was  picturing  to  himself  how  de 
lightful  it  would  be  to  have  for  a  fireside  companion 
a  woman  of  such  beauty  and  accomplishments,  so 
gentle,  so  true,  so  capable  of  entering  into  his  inner 
studies.  "Like  the  mistress  of  the  Impostor  of 
Seruj,"  he  said  to  himself,  "she  has  understanding 
and  discretion,  sharpness  and  wit,  a  hand  with  fingers, 
and  a  mouth  without  teeth ! "  By  which  he  meant 
that  her  tongue  was  not  froward  or  apt  to  scold. 

Suddenly  a  tall  youth  flung  himself  on  the  felt  at 
Omar's  feet : 

"  I  approach  you  as  deserving  of  death  !  "  he  cried. 
"  Kill  me ! "  and  he  extended  to  Omar  a  glittering 
dagger  with  a  jewelled  hilt. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  demanded  Omar  ;  but  no  sooner 
had  he  asked  the  question  than  it  flashed  on  him  he 
had  seen  the  youth  before.  The  scene  rose  before 
his  mind  :  the  chess-board  with  its  beautiful  ivory, 
figures,  carved  in  China,  the  silent  lantern-holders 
looking  on  at  the  game,  the  concentrated  face  of 
the  great  Wazir  planning  the  move  that  was  never 
made,  the  swift  rush  of  the  assassin,  the  deadly  blow 
struck  from  behind,  the  attempted  arrest,  the  con 
fusion,  the  escape  of  the  miscreant  I 


I  RAM  IS  GONE   WITH  ALL  HIS  ROSE.          355 

"  Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want  ? " 

"I  am  a  wretch  who  swore  to  take  your  life," 
stammered  the  youth.  "It  was  I  who  stabbed 
Nizamu'1-Mulk.  Here  is  a  dagger !  Take  it  and 
kill  me !  " 

"  Why  did  you  not  fulfil  your  oath  ? "  asked  Omar. 

"  Because  you  are  a  poet  and  a  wise  man.  I  love 
your  poems,  and  I  prefer  to  break  my  oath  and  be 
put  to  death  by  you." 

"  You  are  a  strange  man ! "  exclaimed  Omar. 
"Are  you  one  of  Hasan  ben  Sabah's  fanatic  fol 
lowers  ? " 

"  I  have  been  till  now.  But  having  broken  my 
oath,  I  cannot  return  except  to  die." 

"Why  did  you  kill  Nizamu'1-Mulk  ?  Was  it  not 
a  cowardly  thing  to  do,  —  to  creep  up  behind  a  man 
and  stab  him  in  the  back  ? " 

"That  is  Hasan's  way  of  waging  war  on  his  ene 
mies.  He  has  made  us  believe  that  this  is  God's 
will.  We  swore  to  obey  him  in  all  things,  —  even 
till  death." 

"  Hasan  was  my  friend,"  said  Omar.  "  Can  he 
have  fallen  so  low?  He  urged  me  to  join  with 
him.  Bi  Khoda,  'twas  well  I  scorned  his  specious 
arguments." 

"  But  again  I  say,"  continued  the  youth,  who  was 
none  other  than  Abdishu,  "  I  am  deserving  of  death  ! 
Kill  me ! " 


356  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

"Nay,"  said  Omar,  "your  secret  is  safe  with  me. 
Once  I  wrote  '  I  verily  believe  Thou  wilt  generously 
pardon  me  on  account  of  my  shame,  because  Thou 
hast  seen  what  I  have  done.'  If  I  could  write  thus 
of  God  pardoning  me,  can  I  do  less?  I  will  not 
cause  your  punishment.  If  you  thought  you  were 
doing  your  duty,  you  braved  all  possibilities  to  ac 
complish  it.  I  have  naught  against  you,  so  far  as  I 
am  concerned." 

"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  Where  can  I  go  ?  I  am 
not  afraid  of  death,  but  I  cannot  return  to  the  Hash 
ish-eaters.  I  have  learned  to  despise  them  and  hate 
them.  They  are  repugnant  to  me." 

"  Where  is  your  home  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  the  sheikh  of  the  village  of  Karej, 
not  far  from  Isfahan." 

"I  have  heard  of  him.  His  name  is  Yusuf  al 
"Ijli?" 

"  That  is  his  name,  and  he  befriended  Hasan ; 
but  if  I  were  to  return  to  my  home,  the  sheikh  of 
the  mountains,  the  head  of  the  Order  of  the  Batini- 
yeh,  would  swoop  down  on  my  father's  home  and 
leave  it  a  wilderness.  I  cannot  go  home." 

Omar  pondered  for  a  moment.  During  that  mo 
ment  a  sudden  project  flowered  in  his  mind. 

"  Your  secret  is  safe  with  me,"  he  said.  "  But  I 
am  going  to  put  a  terrible  burden  on  you.  Hasan 
ibn  Ishak  Tusi,  whom  we  knew  as  Nizamu'1-Mulk, 


IS    GONE    WITH  ALL    HIS  ROSE.        357 

left  a  widow.  You  shall  enter  her  service  and  guard 
her  interests.  As  for  me,"  he  continued,  "  I  start 
within  a  week  for  India.  Perhaps  you  may  go 
also." 

It  would  be  hard  to  describe  the  gratitude  of  the 
young  Arab,  who  thus  found  himself  enabled  to  do 
penance  for  what  he  now  regarded  as  a  despicable 
crime.  He  had  learned  to  compare  the  insignifi 
cance  of  the  affront  which  he  had  burned  to  revenge 
with  the  blood-guiltiness  that  now  weighed  on  his 
soul.  The  Qu'ran  emphasized  the  doctrine  of  As- 
sinna  bis-sinn,  the  tooth  for  the  tooth,  but  here  was 
an  innocent  man  murdered  foully  because  a  few 
camels  had  not  been  paid  for  at  a  fanciful  price ! 
So  he  welcomed  the  hard  service :  of  being  fre 
quently  in  the  presence  of  the  woman  whom  he  had 
so  terribly  injured,  and  of  bearing  in  his  heart  the 
knowledge  which  she  might  not  share.  He  kissed 
the  edge  of  Omar's  robe,  and  said  : 

"  I  gratefully  accept  your  command." 

In  view  of  the  perturbed  condition  of  Nishapur,  — 
and  something  of  the  same  ferment  was  taking  place 
in  Tus, — it  occurred  to  Omar  that  perhaps  Shirin 
Khanum  might  not  be  averse  to  visiting  some  of  the 
cities  of  Upper  India.  A  large  part  of  India  was  then 
under  the  sway  of  the  Ghaznavide  princes,  who  were 
nominally  though  not  really  superior  to  the  Seljuks. 
It  was  not  a  difficult  journey  to  visit  India,  and  there 


358  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

was  a  constant  succession  of  great  caravans  starting 
from  Marv  and  penetrating  Kashmir  and  the  land  of 
the  Sikhs,  and  even  to  the  Pan-jaub,  or,  as  the  Per 
sians  called  it,  the  Pang  Rud,  the  Five  Rivers. 

Barkiyarok  approved  of  Omar's  journey,  and  gave 
him  orders  to  collect  information  regarding  those 
distant  regions.  The  Sultan  himself  suggested  that 
Abul  Mosaffer  'Ali  should  go  with  him.  He  had 
often  travelled  with  his  father  when  the  Wazfr  was 
required  to  accompany  Malikshah  on  some  great 
journey,  and  he  was  delighted  at  the  idea  of  accom 
panying  Omar  to  the  mysterious  lands  beyond  the 
Himalyas. 

It  required  no  long  argument  after  that  to  induce 
Shirin  Khanum  to  join  the  party  to  the  south.  She 
could  not  endure  the  idea  of  separation  from  her 
son,  and  she  confessed  to  herself  that  to  be  under 
the  protection  of  her  husband's  lifelong  friend,  a 
man  whom  she  respected  and  admired,  was  in  itself 
a  consolation  in  her  bereavement. 

It  is  not  in  the  province  of  this  history  to  relate 
the  details  of  Omar's  journey.  The  fruits  of  it  may 
be  found  rather  in  the  impressions  of  Indian  philoso 
phy,  that  are  seen  in  his  later  poems,  than  in  any 
actual  record  of  his  experiences.  He  met  some  of  the 
eminent  Vedantic  philosophers,  and  discussed  with 
them  his  theories  of  life,  his  philosophy,  and  theirs. 
He  had  imbibed  something  of  Plato's  idealism,  and 


IRAM  IS   GONE    WITH*  ALL   HIS  ROSE.        359 

he  and  they  were  in  accord  as  regards  all  things  be 
ing  only  symbols  or  ideas  ;  but  they  taught  him  not 
a  little  about  what  might  be  called  the  theosophy  of 
that  day.  His  own  liberality  of  view,  his  catholicity, 
made  it  easy  for  him  to  see  all  that  was  fine  and 
inspiring  in  their  ancient  literature  and  in  their 
religion. 

He  was  absent  more  than  a  year,  and  when  he 
returned  he  found  that  the  rioting  and  disturbances 
at  Nishapur  had  almost  ceased.  He  therefore  went 
back  to  his  own  home.  Shirin  Khanum  returned  to 
her  former  home  in  Tus  ;  but  as  long  as  she  lived, 
she  and  Omar  were  the  best  of  friends.  She  remained 
faithful  to  the  memory  of  Nizamu'1-Mulk,  and  he 
never  realized  his  dream  of  bringing  her  to  Nishapur 
and  he  was  content  to  have  it  so.  He  occupied  him 
self  with  his  astronomical  and  mathematical  pursuits. 
He  still  took  pleasure  in  sitting  on  his  terrace  and 
listening  to  the  nightingales  singing  in  the  neigh 
bouring  gardens.  Occasionally,  but  not  so  frequently 
as  when  life  was  in  its  prime,  he  composed  and  pol 
ished  one  of  his  quatrains.  Abdlshu  would  gladly  have 
followed  him  and  remained  his  servant  all  his  life, 
but  Omar  knew  that  his  life  would  not  be  worth  an 
hour's  purchase  if  he  came  into  reach  of  Hasan  ben 
Sabah's  long  arm,  and  advised  him  to  settle  in  India. 

The  Governor  of  the  city,  San  jar,  found  no  less 
pleasure  in  his  society  than  his  father  had  done, 


360  OMAR    THE    TEX/MAKER. 

and  often  invited  him  to  the  palace  and  seated  him 
by  his  side  on  his  ivory  throne.  Protected  by  this 
powerful  friend,  he  was  enabled  to  live  at  ease,  even 
when  his  heretical  notions  would  have  exposed  him 
to  fanatic  outrage.  But  by  the  advice  of  Shirin 
Khanum  he  went  often  to  the  services  at  the  Mcsjid, 
and  outwardly  conformed  to  the  observances  of 
Islam.  He  could  do  so  without  hypocrisy,  for  his 
liberal  mind  enabled  him  to  find  the  Truth  under 
almost  any  form  of  worship. 

His  great  fame  attracted  many  students  to  him, 
and  with  the  young  he  had  an  extraordinary  in 
fluence.  Though  he  had  the  reputation  of  being 
such  a  lover  of  wine  and  pleasure,  he  recommended 
his  young  friends  to  seek  the  One,  the  Ruler  of  the 
Universe,  by  trying  to  purify  the  soul,  by  controlling 

v  with  firmness  all  the  carnal  desires.  He  showed  them 
in  what  happiness  consisted.  He  himself  was  well 
acquainted  with  the  philosophy  of  Greece,  and  espe 
cially  Plato's,  and  he  used  often  to  talk  to  an  eager 
group  of  his  admirers  about  politics  and  civic  econ 
omy  as  represented  in  Plato's  republic.  His  ideal 
was  a  state  founded  on  love,  —  a  perfect  state  in 
which  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces  are  so 
accurately  balanced  that  there  is  never  any  discord. 
Among  his  pupils  was  more  than  one  poet  who 

>.      afterwards   became  famous.    :  Anwari'  studied   with 
him,    and    Nizami    of    Samarkand,    who    told    the 


IK  AM  IS  GONE   WITH  ALL  HIS  ROSE.          361 

poetic  tale  of  Alexander's  conquest,  was  his  favorite 
disciple. 

Nizami  says  : 

"  Once  I  chanced  to  find  the  learned  Omar  in 
Balkh  and  had  a  joyous  meeting  with  him,  and  as  he 
talked  he  said  :  '  My  grave  shall  be  in  a  place  where 
every  spring  the  north  wind  shall  scatter  roses  over 
it.'" 

With  a  deeper  meaning  he  himself  wrote : 

"Ah,  with  the  Grape  my  fading  life  provide 
And  wash  the  Body  whence  the  Life  has  died, 

And  lay  me,  shrouded  in  the  living  Leaf 
By  some  not  unfrequented  Garden-side. 

"  That  e'en  my  buried  Ashes  such  a  snare 
Of  Vintage  shall  fling  up  into  the  Air 

As  not  a  True-believer  passing  by 
But  shall  be  overtaken  unaware."  * 

Sultan  Barkiyarok  passed  away,  and  Sanjar  came 
to  the  throne  in  his  place  ;  the  younger  brother, 
Mahmud,  was  sent  against  Hasan  ben  Sabah.  But 
Hasan  ben  Sabah,  unmoved  by  any  display  of  force, 
sat  still  in  his  impregnable  castle  and  laughed  to 
scorn  the  efforts  to  dislodge  him. 

Many  were  the  princes  whom  his  dreaded  emis 
saries  sent  untimely  into  the  darkness.  But  he 
himself  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed  life.  He  lived 

1  E.  FitzGerald's  paraphrase. 


362  OMAK    THE    TENTMAKER. 

till  well  into  the  twelfth  century,  never  during  his 
latter  years  leaving  his  sumptuously  furnished  quar 
ters,  but  reaching  out  into  distant  regions,  and  mak 
ing  his  ruthless  influence  felt.  The  Crusaders  came 
to  know  him  quite  too  well,  and  they  bore  back  to 
Europe  frightful  reports  of  his  unscrupulous  fanati 
cism,  which  sacrificed  the  Lord  of  Emessa,  and 
attacked  Count  St.  Gillies.  When,  full  of  years, 
he  felt  death  approaching,  he  summoned  the  Dal 
Kurbusurgomid  to  AlamQt,  and  appointed  him  his 
successor  as  head  of  the  Order.  He  had  expected 
great  things  of  Abdlshu,  and  would  have  probably 
made*  him  the  second  Sidna,  but  the  young  man's 
defection  and  disappearance  —  for  he  remained  in 
India  —  had  greatly  disappointed  him.  The  sect  of 
the  Assassins  lingered  on  for  a  few  years,  but  it 
missed  the  master-mind  that  had  so  skilfully  guided 
it  so  long,  and  before  half  a  century  had  passed  it 
had  vanished,  leaving  only  an  evil  memory  behind. 
It  was  finally  destroyed  by  Hulugu,  the  Tartar  Con 
queror  of  Bagdad.  The  same  year  that  Hasan  died, 
Omar  also  died.  And  this  was  the  manner  of  his 
death  : 

The  Imam  Muhammad  of  Bagdad  happened  to  be 
visiting  him,  and  Omar,  seated  in  his  favorite  posi 
tion  under   the  palm-tree  in  his  little  garden,  was 
reading   a   chapter   in   the  "Book  of   Healing,"- 
that  chapter  of  the  Qu'ran  entitled  the  "  One  and 


IRAM  IS   GONE    WITH  ALL   HIS  ROSE.        363 

the  Many,"  when  he  suddenly  ceased,  and,  placing 
between  the  leaves  a  golden  dinar  to  mark  the 
place,  he  addressed  the  Imam  Muhammad,  and 
said  : 

"  I  feel  that  my  last  hour  has  come ;  call  my 
friends,  that  I  may  speak  once  more  to  them." 

And  when  his  friends  —  his  pupils  and  some  of 
his  neighbors  —  had  assembled  around  him,  he  got  to 
his  feet  in  the  manner  prescribed  by  the  ritual,  and, 
turning  in  the  direction  of  Makka,  in  a  clear  voice 
repeated  the  evening  prayer.  Then,  kneeling,  he 
bent  his  brow  to  the  ground,  and  said : 

"  O  God !  Verily  I  have  known  Thee  so  for  as 
the  power  within  me  extended ;  forgive  me,  there 
fore.  Verily  my  knowledge  of  Thee  is  my  recom 
mendation  to  Thee." 

Then  he  arose  once  more,  and  repeated  to  his 
friends  his  last  quatrain  : 

"  '  / am  weary,  O  God,  of  my  utter  badness ; 
Of  my  idle  days,  of  my  anguish  and  sadness. 
Ever  as  life  out  of  death  thou  bringest,  so  bring  me 
From  my  non-existence  for  Thine  Honor  and  Gladness  / ' 

After  this  he  bade  his  friends  and  disciples  one  by 
one  farewell,  and  when  he  had  thus  dismissed  them, 
he  went  and  lay  on  his  divan. 

The  Imam  accompanied  them  to  the  door,  and 
when  he  returned,  he  found  that  Omar  had  peacefully 


364  OMAR    THE    TENTMAKER. 

and  silently  breathed  his  last.     Such  was  the  end  of 
Omar,  the  poet  and  astronomer  of  Nishapur. 

The  report  of  his  death  was  received  with  sorrow 
by  a  wide  circle.  Even  those  who  criticised  his 
heresies  realized  how  great  he  was,  how  much  he 
had  done  for  his  native  town  and  province.  He 
was  buried  in  a  costly  tomb.  When,  some  years 
later,  Nizami  happened  to  be  passing  through  Nish 
apur,  he  remembered  what  Omar  had  said  about 
his  grave,  and  he  went  in  search  of  it,  and  found  it 
in  the  midst  of  a  garden,  where  pomegranate  and 
other  fruit-trees  shaded  it,  stretching  forth  their 
branches  over  the  garden  wall.  And  the  blossoms 
of  the  rose-bushes  and  of  the  fruit-trees  had  fallen  in 
such  abundance  that  they  hid  it  from  sight.  And 
Nizami  marvelled  at  the  wise  Omar's  saying  and 
prophecy,  and  when  he  went  to  Omar's  house  he 
was  told  that  it  had  been  his  wish  to  be  thus  laid 
away,  so  that  the  blossoms  might  be  strewn  over  his 
last  resting-place. 

The  rose-bushes  still  bloom  over  Omar's  tomb  ;  but 
Nishapur  lies  in  ruins.  Of  all  the  myriads  who  in 
his  day  were  living  in  that  beautiful  city  of  the  plain, 
he  alone  speaks  in  deathless  voice  to  men  of  other 
tongues  and  other  religion.  His  message  is  heeded 
because  it  expresses  the  modern  mood  of  epicurean 
ism  and  agnosticism,  and  perhaps  of  pessimism.  Our 


IRAM  IS   GONE    WITH  ALL   HIS  ROSE.        365 

restless,  discontented  hearts  find  comfort  in  the  beau 
tiful  utterances  of  a  man  who,  almost  a  thousand 
years  ago,  faced  bravely  and  unflinchingly  the  same 
problems  that  we  must  face,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
ruthless  wheel  of  the  sky,  found  joy  and  peace  in 
the  Day  as  it  passed,  and  had  faith  that  the  Maker 
of  the  Pots  was  a  good  fellow,  and  that  all  would  be 
well. 

He  lived  in  a  day  of  strenuous  life ;  he  mingled 
with  the  great  men  of  his  time,  and  his  poems  show 
that  he  preserved  his  independence,  his  sublime 
individuality,  his  serenity,  his  keenness  of  vision, 
unimpaired  till  the  end. 

Farewell,  then,  Omar  the  Tentmaker!  We  of  a 
later  day,  we  of  a  happier  civilization,  though  perhaps 
not  more  advanced,  claim  you  as  one  of  us.  We  love 
and  revere  your  memory.  Hail  and  Farewell ! 


TAMAM. 


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An  Enemy  to  the  King. 

From   the   Recently   Discovered   Memoirs  of  the 
Sieur  de  la  Toumoire.     By  ROBERT   NEILSON   STE 
PHENS.     Illustrated  by  H.   De  M.   Young, 
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An  historical  romance  of  the  sixteenth  century,  describing 
the  adventures  of  a  young  French  nobleman  at  the  Court  of 
Henry  IV.,  and  on  the  field  with  Henry  of  Navarre. 

The  Continental  Dragoon. 

A  Romance  of  Philipse  Manor  House,  in  1778. 
By  ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS,  author  of  "  An  En 
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A  stirring  romance  of  the  Revolution,  the  scene  being  laid  in 
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at  the  time  of  the  story  was  the  central  point  of  the  so-called 
"  neutral  territory  **  between  the  two  armies. 

M uriel In  :  or,  Le  Selve. 

By  OUIDA.  Illustrated  by  M.  B.  Prendergast 
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This  is  the  latest  work  from  the  pen  of  the  brilliant  author  of 
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The  Road  to  Paris. 

By  ROBERT   NEILSON   STEPHENS,    author  of  "An 
Enemy  to  the  King,"  "The  Continental  Dragoon," 
etc.      Illustrated   by   H.   C.  Edwards, 
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An  historical  romance,  being  an  account  of  the  life  of  an 
American  gentleman  adventurer  of  Jacobite  ancestry,  whose 
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The  story  is  written  in  Mr.  Stephens's  best  style,  and  is  of 
absorbing  interest. 

Rose  a  Charlitte. 

An  Acadien  Romance.     By  MARSHALL  SAUNDERS, 
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De  M.  Young, 
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Bobbie  McDuff. 

By  CLINTON  Ross,  author  of  "  The  Scarlet  Coat," 
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his  earlier  successes.  Mr.  Ross  has  made  good  use  of  the 
wealth  of  material  at  his  command.  New  York  furnishes  him 
the  hero,  sunny  Italy  a  heroine,  grim  Russia  the  villain  of  the 
story,  while  the  requirements  of  the  exciting  plot  shift  the  scene 
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In  Kings'  Houses. 

A  Romance  of  the    Reign  of  Queen  Anne.     By 
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age,"  etc.     Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill, 
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Mrs.  Dorr's  poems  and  travel  sketches  have  earned  for  her  a 
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works.  The  story  deals  with  one  of  the  most  romantic  epi 
sodes  in  English  history.  Queen  Anne,  the  last  of  the  reigning 
Stuarts,  is  described  with  a  strong,  yet  sympathetic  touch,  and 
the  young  Duke  of  Gloster,  the  "  little  lady,"  and  the  hero  of 
the  tale,  Robin  Sandys,  are  delightful  characterizations. 

Sons  of  Adversity. 

A  Romance  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  Time.     By  L. 

COPE  CONFORD,  author  of  "  Captain  Jacobus,"  etc. 
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A  tale  of  adventure  on  land  and  sea  at  the  time  when  Prot 
estant  England  and  Catholic  Spain  were  struggling  for  naval 
supremacy.  Spanish  conspiracies  against  the  peace  of  good 
Queen  Bess,  a  vivid  description  of  the  raise  of  the  Spanish 
siege  of  Leyden  by  the  combined  Dutch  and  English  forces, 
sea  fights,  the  recovery  of  stolen  treasure,  are  all  skilfully  woven 
elements  in  a  plot  of  unusual  strength. 

The  Count  of  Nideck. 

From  the  French  of  Erckman-Chatrian,  translated 
and    adapted   by   RALPH   BROWNING    FISKE.     Illus 
trated  by  Victor  A.   Searles. 
i  vol.,  library  12  mo,  cloth  .         .         .  "      .         $1.25 

A  romance  of  the  Black  Forest,  woven  around  the  mysterious 
legend  of  the  Wehr  Wolf.  The  plot  has  to  do  with  the  later 
German  feudal  times,  is  brisk  in  action,  and  moves  spiritedly 
from  stan  to  finish.  Mr.  Fiske  deserves  a  great  deal  of  credit 
for  the  excellence  of  his  work.  No  more  interesting  romao^e 
has  appeared  recently. 


LIST    OF    NEW    FICTION. 


The  Making  of  a  Saint. 

By  W.  SOMERSET  MAUGHAM.     Illustrated  by  Gil 
bert  James, 
i  vol.,  library  i2mo,  cloth  ....         $1.50 

"  The  Making  of  a  Saint  "  is  a  romance  of  Mediaeval  Italy,  the 
scene  being  laid  in  the  I5th  century.  It  relates  the  life  of  a 
young  leader  of  Free  Companions  who,  at  the  close  of  one  of 
the  many  petty  Italian  wars,  returns  to  his  native  city.  There 
he  becomes  involved  in  its  politics,  intrigues,  and  feuds,  and 
finally  joins  an  uprising  of  the  townspeople  against  their  lord. 
None  can  resent  the  frankness  and  apparent  brutality  of  the 
scenes  through  which  the  hero  and  his  companions  of  both 
sexes  are  made  to  pass,  and  many  will  yield  ungrudging  praise 
to  the  author's  vital  handling  of  the  truth.  In  the  characters 
are  mirrored  the  life  of  the  Italy  of  their  day.  The  book  will 
confirm  Mr.  Maugham's  reputation  as  a  strong  and  original 
writer. 


Omar  the  Tentmaker. 

A  Romance  of  Old  Persia.     By  NATHAN  HASKELL 
DOLE.     Illustrated  by  F.  T.  Merrill, 
i  vol.,  library  lamo,  cloth  .         .,  '     .         .         $1.50 

Mr.  Dole's  study  of  Persian  literature  and  history  admirably 
equips  him  to  enter  into  the  life  and  spirit  of  the  time  of  the 
romance,  and  the  hosts  of  admirers  of  the  inimitable  quatrains 
of  Omar  Khayyam,  made  famous  by  Fitzgerald,  will  be  deeply 
interested  in  a  tale  based  on  authentic  facts  in  the  career  of  the 
famous  Persian  poet.  The  three  chief  characters  are  Omar 
Khayyam,  Nizam-ul-Mulk,  the  generous  and  high-minded  Vizier 
of  the  Tartar  Sultan  Malik  Shah  of  Mero,  and  Hassan  ibu 
Sabbah,  the  ambitious  and  revengeful  founder  of  the  sect  of 
the  Assassins.  The  scene  is  laid  partly  at  Naishapur,  in  the 
Province  of  Khorasan,  which  about  the  period  of  the  First 
Crusade  was  at  its  acme  of  civilization  and  refinement,  and 
partly  in  the  mountain  fortress  of  Alamut,  south  of  the  Cas 
pian  Sea,  where  the  Ismailians  under  Hassan  established  them 
selves  towards  the  close  of  the  nth  century.  Human  nature  is 
always  the  same,  and  the  passions  of  love  and  ambition,  of 
religion  and  fanaticism,  of  friendship  and  jealousy,  are  admira 
bly  contrasted  in  the  fortunes  of  these  three  able  and  remark 
able  characters  as  well  as  in  those  of  the  minor  personages  of 
the  story. 


L,    C.    PAGE    AND    COMPANY  S 


Captain  Fracasse. 

A  new  translation  from  the   French  by  Gautier. 
Illustrated  by  Victor  A.  Searles. 
i  vol.,  library  12010,  cloth  .         .        .         •'        $1.25 

This  famous  romance  has  been  out  of  print  for  some  time, 
and  a  new  translation  is  sure  to  appeal  to  its  many  admirers, 
who  have  never  yet  had  any  edition  worthy  of  the  story. 

The  Rejuvenation  of  Hiss  Semaphore. 

A  farcical  novel.     By  HAL  GODFREY.     Illustrated 
by  Etheldred  B.  Barry, 
i  vol.,  library  121110,  cloth  ...»         $1.25 

A  fanciful,  laughable  tale  of  two  maiden  sisters  of  uncertain 
age  who  are  induced,  by  their  natural  longing  for  a  return  to 
youth  and  its  blessings,  to  pay  a  large  sum  for  a  mystical  water 
which  possesses  the  value  of  setting  backwards  the  hands  of 
time.  No  more  delightfully  fresh  and  original  book  has  ap 
peared  since  "  Vice  Versa"  charmed  an  amused  world.  It  is 
well  written,  drawn  to  the  life,  and  full  of  the  moat  enjoy 
able  humor. 

Midst  the  Wild  Carpathians. 

By  MAURUS  JOK.AI,  author  of  "  Black  Diamonds," 
"The  Lion  of  Janina,"  etc.     Authorized  translation 
by  R.  Nisbet  Bain.    Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy, 
i  vol.,  library  12  mo,  cloth  .         .  •.         $1.15 

A  thrilling,  historical,  Hungarian  novel,  in  which  the  extraor 
dinary  dramatic  and  descriptive  powers  of  the  great  Magyar 
writer  have  full  play.  As  a  picture  of  feudal  life  in  Hungary  it 
has  never  been  surpassed  for  fidelity  and  vividness.  The  trans 
lation  is  exceedingly  well  done. 

The  Golden  Dog. 

A  Romance  of  Quebec.  By  WILLIAM  KIRBY.  New 
authorized  edition.  Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy, 
i  vol.,  library  12  mo,  cloth  .  .  .  .  $1.25 

A  powerful  romance  of  love,  intrigue,  and  adventure  in  the 
time  of  Louis  XV.  and  Mme.  de  Pompadour,  when  the  French 
colonies  were  making  their  great  struggle  IQ. retain  for  an  un 
grateful  court  the  fairest  jewels  in  the  colonial  diadem  ot 
France. 


LIST    OF    NEW    FICTION. 


Bijli  the  Dancer. 

By  JAMES  BLYTHE  PATTON.     Illustrated  by  Horace 
Van  Rinth. 
i  vol.,  library  12 mo,  cloth  .       ^.    ,     .         »         $1.50 

A  novel  of  Modern  India.  The  fortunes  of  the  heroine, 
an  Indian  Naucht  girl,  are  told  with  a  vigor,  pathos,  and  a 
wealth  of  poetic  sympathy  that  makes  the  book  admirable  from 
first  to  last. 

"To  Arms!" 

Being  Some  Passages  from  the  Early  Life  of  Allan 
Oliphant,  Chirurgeon,  Written  by  Himself,  and  now 
Set  Forth  for  the  First  Time.     By  ANDREW  BALFOUR. 
Illustrated  by  F.  W.  Glover, 
i  vol.,  library  i2mo,  cloth  ....         $1.50 

A  romance  dealing  with  an  interesting  phase  of  Scottish  and 
English  history,  the  Jacobite  Insurrection  of  1715,  which  will 
appeal  strongly  to  the  great  number  of  admirers  of  historical 
fiction.  The  story  is  splendidly  told,  the  magic  circle  which 
the  author  draws  about  the  reader  compelling  a  complete 
forgetfulness  of  prosaic  nineteenth  century  life. 

Friendship  and  Folly. 

A  novel.    By  MARIA  LOUISE  POOLE,  author  of  "  In  a 
Dike  Shanty,"  etc.     Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Kennedy, 
i  vol.,  library  i2mo,  cloth  .         .         •'»      •         $1.25 

An  extremely  well-written  story  of  modern  life.  The  interest 
centres  in  the  development  of  the  character  of  the  heroine,  a 
New  England  girl,  whose  high-strung  temperament  is  in  con 
stant  revolt  against  the  confining  limitations  of  nineteenth 
century  surroundings.  The  reader's  interest  is  held  to  the  end, 
and  the  book  will  take  high  rank  among  American  psychologi 
cal  novels. 

A      Hypocritical     Romance     and    other 
stories. 

By  CAROLINE  TICKNOR.  Illustrated  by  J.  W.  Ken 
nedy,  i  vol.,  large  i6mo,  cloth  .  .  $1.00 

Miss  Ticknor,  well  known  as  one  of  the  most  promising  of 
the  younger  school  of  American  writers,  has  never  done  better 
work  than  in  the  majority  of  these  clever  stories,  written  in  a 
delightful  comedy  vein. 


JAM  1 1  ISM 


DATE  DUE 

RECD 

:EB  19  198* 

INTERUafc 

IRY  LOANS 

OCT  04 

1990 

REfi'OJU 

.  24199(1 

CAVLOMO 

rniNTtoiNu  «  * 

3  1970008096296 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


